


Stark & Strange

by AikiBriarRose



Category: Doctor Strange (2016), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: M/M, Marvel Universe, Post-Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie), Post-Canon, The Avengers - Freeform, The Avengers Need a Hug, Tony Stark Gets a Hug, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, everyone needs to chill
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-19
Updated: 2018-09-05
Packaged: 2019-06-13 02:56:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 24,374
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15354699
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AikiBriarRose/pseuds/AikiBriarRose
Summary: In the aftermath of the confrontation with Thanos and restoration of the universe, Tony has some momentous decisions to make. He visits Doctor Strange's Sanctum Sanctorum to speak with the Sorcerer Supreme as the most neutral person he can think of about these decisions, and finds that Stephen is more than willing to help. Tony admits to having feelings for the doctor and finds out that Stephen also wants to be more than just a friend or confidant.





	1. Crystal Ball

**Author's Note:**

> 199999 - MCU - Post Infinity War
> 
> Styx - [Crystal Ball](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OSuQbF9suqA)  
> album: "Crystal Ball" (1976)  
> album: "Caught In The Act" (1984)  
> album: "Return To Paradise" (1997)  
> [Lyrics](https://www.azlyrics.com/lyrics/styx/crystalball.html)

Time passes without notice, which is unusual for Tony, walking the streets of New York. Lost in thought, he takes no interest in his surroundings until his feet stop at one particular set of stairs. They aren't imposing, being only two steps between door and sidewalk. Three if he counts the top one. The area between the stair and door isn't imposing either, a few steps and he's there. He studied the door, noting how ordinary and typical it is. There's two of them, to be precise, and when has he not been precise?

He considers knocking, though he doesn't want to be a bother to anyone. Which is why he went for a walk in the first place. A note had been left behind, on his work bench, letting anyone who cared to read it that he is going to the city for a few days off. It's not like he didn't deserve it. By his calculations, he could go on vacation for the rest of his life and not use up all his time, if he worked a regular job. Which he didn't.

It baffles him why he's here, at this door, right now. At least, that's what he tells himself. Like he doesn't know why he came this way. Nothing else makes sense. That, above all else, is what brings him here. He doesn't know where else he could go. Nobody he knows understands the dilemma he is facing. So he stands here, at this door, wondering if this is also a mistake.

The door opens, on its own, revealing the man he's come to see. To talk to, hopefully. Dr Strange stands there, a faint smile softening the edges of his face.

“Namaste, Tony Stark. I'm glad you've come by for a visit.”

“So you knew I was coming for a visit?” Tony can't help but sound skeptical. 

The faint smile bursts into its full radiance, lightening Strange’s countenance immensely. “Not exactly, but the probabilities were highest for this morning. Please,” he steps back from the doorway, motioning inward, “come inside.”

Shedding his reluctance, Tony steps through the door, hands in his pockets. He glances around, noting that Strange is wearing that blue robe that seems to be his outfit of choice when working his magic. The foyer had been repaired, something Tony had seen to, despite the doctor's protest. No one else was here, judging by the silence of the house. Strange heads toward the back of the house, bypassing the stairs.

“What brings you here today, Tony? May I call you Tony?” Strange turns his head as they walk, tossing the questions over his shoulder.

Tony shrugs. “I prefer that, actually. Especially when I'm being friendly.”

He stops at the end of the hallway, hands still in his pockets. Head tipping sideways, he stares out over the display floor, not seeing any of the items contained there, his mind searching for an answer to the first question. After several seconds of not finding one, his gaze lowers to the floor, focusing on his shoes. A pair of boots come into view, followed by a hand on his shoulder.

“It's okay to say you don't know.” Strange's voice soothes him, settling over him, blanketing him unexpectedly in comfort. He releases his grip on Tony's shoulder and turns back the way he'd been heading. “Perhaps we can figure something out while you're here.”

Following slowly behind, Tony starts humming the tune that pops into his head. After the opening bars and first two verses, he begins singing, softly, barely breathing the words of the chorus. 

_Tell me, tell me where I'm going_  
_I don't know where I've been_  
_Tell me, tell me, won't you tell me_  
_And then tell me again_  
_My heart is breaking, my body's aching_  
_And I don't know where to go_  
_Tell me, tell me, won't you tell me_  
_I've just got to know_

“Crystal Ball. Styx. 1976 from the album of the same name. Released again on the Caught in the Act album, 1984. And again in 1997 on the Return to Paradise album. One of Tommy Shaw’s best songs, ever. In my opinion.” Strange returns to Tony’s side with a mug of something steaming in each hand and gives one to Tony with a smug little grin. Tony recognizes that grin. It’s one that he gets when he is showing off. It’s been a long time since he’s had a reason to use it.

“Wow, you’re kidding me. Now that’s impressive.” Tony hasn’t had anyone show off for him in a long time, either. He takes the drink, noting that the mug is cool, even while the liquid steams within it. Magic, he supposes, taking a drink as he thinks of a couple different ways that could be made to happen with technology. Not that he’d ever have a chance to make a device to do that. His inner scoffing gets interrupted by the taste of whatever is in this cup. 

“This is amazing! What is it?” He turns to find Strange, the doctor having stepped out of view again, leaving Tony standing in the middle of an area whose boundaries are defined by a couple of leather couches and a high wooden desk covered in books and papers that appear to be antiques, or at least old and handmade. He wonders if he should call the man Dr Strange, though that feels so formal at this point. 

“Call me Stephen. I think we are on good enough terms for that, don’t you, Tony?” Stephen has walked up behind him and is staring at his back. Or he was, as Tony spins around to find him standing there, chin in hand, elbow on wrist, concerned look on his face, eyes focused where Tony’s spine had been a few seconds ago. 

“And, it’s just tea, with a little honey. A special blend I put together to help with anxiety and nerves. Don’t worry. I drink it all the time.” He waves his hand, smiling as Tony’s mug fills back up with the steaming liquid. “When was the last time you visited a doctor about your insomnia and anxiety?”

Tony nearly spit his tea over the front of Stephen’s blue robe. As it is, he chokes a couple of times on the drops of liquid that have gotten caught in his windpipe, sucking in air and coughing it out as Stephen pats his back. One last time, he coughs and then his lungs are clear, though his head is spinning now, from the influx of oxygen and from the concern in Stephen’s voice. Like that smug little grin, Tony isn’t sure when the last time he’d had that question asked of him. He forgets that Strange, no-no, Stephen, is actually a doctor. The magic, among other things, had distracted him from that fact.

“I haven’t been vetted by a medical doctor for more than scratches and bruises in, oh,” pausing to think back, Tony is interrupted by Stephen shaking his head.

“That is entirely too long and unacceptable. May I take a look?” He holds out his hands for Tony to give his shirt up, only to see the confused look on the genius’s face. “Your shirt please, Tony. I’d like to -”

“Examine me? Play doctor with me?” Tony hands over his mug and allows a mischievous grin to play across his lips as he starts to unzip his running jacket a little at a time, shaking his hips to each side as he starts to make snare drum sounds. To his surprise, Stephen sets the mug on the nearby desk and stands there, hands on hips, tossing his head back in laughter.

“Oh this ought to be interesting. Maybe I should ask you to take it all off, if you’re going to give me a show?” His grin is full, accompanied by raised eyebrows as he watches Tony get to the bottom of the zipper and pull open one side of the jacket, showing his still-clothed shoulder. 

Tony gives his shoulder a little wiggle, blowing a kiss toward Stephen. “You okay with this, doc?”

“Well you could do it a little faster, but if this gets your shirt off, then I’m fine. I’ll try to stay professional for the exam, then we can talk about personal preferences later. Say, over dinner?” 

The one eyebrow that remains raised tells Tony that the man really is seriously asking him out, right now, even as Tony is undressing for him. Heat flashes through him, head to loins, leaving him flustered and caught off-guard. He stops dancing and pulls the jacket off, giving the doctor a sassy grin, though his eyelids flutter down as he finds himself unable to look Stephen in the eye at this moment. The jacket lands on the couch with his toss, followed by the shirt. Tony resists the urge to flex, though he does tighten his stomach muscles a little.

A low whistle comes from Stephen’s pursed lips as he views Tony’s upper body, from his sculpted abs up to the cut pecs and deltoids. Every part of the man’s torso is defined and toned. Stephen had figured that managing the flexibility and movement of the Iron Man suit would keep Tony in shape, but it definitely looks like the man has done more on his own beyond the strictly necessary maintenance. Besides showing appreciation, he really likes how the red of Tony’s cheeks looks against his tan skin and the sultry smile that is being held back but still curves those lips. 

Raising his gaze, Tony finds himself being appraised very frankly, both professionally and with personal interest. He’s certain this is what a specimen on display must feel like, though with Stephen, he has a brief moment of confusion, experiencing both attraction and shyness toward his examiner. 

His attraction to the man has been in him since their first meeting, standing in the foyer of this house, discussing Infinity Stones and flavors of ice cream. The fact that Stephen had known the flavor Ben and Jerry’s had named after him, but then gave it a less than stellar review in only a few words, had lit the fire. Now, after everything they’d been through, Tony almost can’t believe that the attraction is reciprocated. He’d been sure they’d become friends, albeit reluctantly on Stephen’s part, but finding out that it’s more than just intellectual is exciting, and daunting. This sudden rush of nerves can only be from Tony’s desire to not mess things up. 

“May I?” Stephen’s request interrupts Tony’s inner monologue as the doctor steps closer. 

Tony notices the red cloak has removed itself from Stephen’s shoulders and taken up a position behind the couch, hanging there like a watchful butler. An unexpected memory of Jarvis hits him out of the blue, bringing a sniff to him against the briefest whiff of nostalgia.

“Sure thing, Doc. Just tell me what you want me to do.” Tony replies, catching a brief smirk as Stephen walks around him and again takes up a position behind him. 

“For right now,” Stephen’s words are slow, drawn out as though he is concentrating on something other than speaking, “I just need you to remain still and relaxed. You can talk, if you like.”

Hooking his thumb in the waistband of his pants, Tony realizes he doesn’t feel the urge to talk, to fill the empty spaces, like he usually does. He’s got a weird itch between his shoulder blades, though Stephen hasn’t lain a finger on him yet, to his dismay. He wants to have those hands on him, touching him. His imagination has been telling him how gentle and unobtrusive that touch would be, but for now, he has to settle for eyes only. Words do come to mind after a couple of minutes of silence. 

“Well, Doc, what’s the prognosis? Is it fatal?”

“Life is always fatal, if not deadly, Tony.” Low and rumbly, Stephen’s words are tinged with a bit of laughter that brings an answering smile to Tony’s lips. He’s about to respond when Stephen continues. “You are in remarkably good condition, physically. Your aura is a mess, and your chakra points need cleansed, which I can do for you, no problem. The worst is your spinal column. With these compression fractures and pinched nerves, it’s a wonder you’re not in more pain than you are. Your endorphin level is through the roof, and your serotonin production is out of whack, as are your lymphatic and endocrine systems. Explains the insomnia and a lot of the anxiety.”

Thrown off by Stephen’s reference to chakra points and endocrine systems, along with everything else he’d said, all jumbled together and delivered in the tone he’d expect to hear from an auto mechanic, Tony remains silent. He resists the urge to watch as Stephen walks around him, mumbling words in languages he doesn’t understand. When Stephen comes to a stop behind him, Tony takes a deep breath, expecting to be poked and prodded like any other doctor would. Instead, hearing a low hum start up, he tries to turn his head to see what is happening.

“Tssss, hold still please.” Stephen’s near-whisper of a request stops his head mid-turn. 

“Can I straighten my head back?” Tony murmurs the question from the side of his mouth, his neck muscles protesting the odd angle.

“Yes, please. This will just take a minute once everything is set.” Concentration is evident in Stephen’s tone, as though he is holding something in place until Tony is ready.

Tony moves his head back to the front cautiously, not sure what Stephen is doing, but certain it is complicated, going by the doctor’s tone. The hum continues, reminding him of high-voltage transformers, or the giant arc-reactor he used to have on display so many years ago. His back feels twitchy and he can sense actual energy, like heat but not hot, coming off of whatever Stephen had started back there. Once his head is back in position, he hears more of the snap and hum behind him. 

“Alright, everything is set up and ready. This is going to be strange and maybe a bit like touching an electric fence, but you’ll start to feel better once it’s done.” Behind him, Stephen manages to sound confident and cautious, the susurration of cloth underlying the murmur of his voice. “May I proceed?”

Tony chuckles to himself a bit at Stephen describing something as strange. Increasing in pitch, the hum of whatever is behind him gives him pause, causing him to evaluate how much he trusts the man that is creating this buzz of energy. It’s as though his bones are beginning to vibrate at the same frequency of the hum, charging his senses and fueling his anticipation. An odd desire ignites in his chest, even as the arc reactor there starts to hum as well. Resisting the urge to bounce or move in anyway, Tony gives a quick, sharp nod.

A sharply exhaled vocalization comes from Stephen, similar to that used by martial artists when performing strength moves. Energy hits Tony in the back, a framework connecting points of himself as though wires had been strung between them. Shoulder to chest, chest to loins, knees to feet and back up through his spine to his head. At his forehead, light blossoms, turning the room an unknown degree, like it had been spun on an axis and he is trying to view it as it spins. His hands float up, palms filling with light as well, reminding him of repulsors, though he has no armor, no suit around him. 

He glances down as his feet begin to feel the same, laughing as he sees the floor falling slowly away from his body. The hum encompasses him now, buzzing throughout his entirety, filling him with light, lifting him from the floor. A thought that he wants to see Stephen’s face at this sight is conceived and acted upon without a break between, his physical being turning around to face the man behind him. For a moment, the room spins beyond what he can see with his eyes, yet he doesn’t lose track of what he is seeing. It bounds back, rebounding back and forth until he thinks that it needs to stop, so it does. He knows he is grinning as he floats there, holding the framework in his thoughts, sure that it wasn’t supposed to last this long but unwilling to let it go, to let this feeling go. 

The look of awe on Stephen’s face is wonderous, filling Tony’s chest with an emotion he hasn’t been privy to very often, one that he is reluctant to admit he can feel. Instead, he winks and grins as Stephen holds out his hands, beckoning him to let go of the energy and return to physical existence. Tony doesn’t want to, but years of self-monitoring and biofeedback tells him his heart is racing. Thinking of it allows him to hear his pulse, the rush of blood surging through his veins, the actual beat of his heart, damaged though it is, strong and steady. 

Threads of gold and white in that area of his body attract his attention and he sees how some of them are tangled and knotted, causing slight irregularities in the rhythm of the heart muscle. He starts to move closer but is interrupted by Stephen’s voice calling to him, asking him to return, reminding him that he should be focusing on the whole, not individual pieces. Withdrawing his focus, Tony returns to looking at Stephen looking at him. His grin returning, his entire being relaxed and energized, he lets go of the energy framework and thumps gently back to the floor. 

Stephen’s mouth hangs open for a couple of seconds before he closes it with a click, swallowing hard to clear his throat so he can speak. He has performed this cleansing several times since he learned the incantations for it, but in the time that has passed since it was first shown to him, he has never seen anyone not already an adept take control of the healing energy in this manner. He’s also never felt this way when someone has looked at him before, whether or not they were encased in illuminating energy. The experience has rendered him speechless. 

From the first time he’d met Tony, in his foyer after convincing him to step through the portal in the park that fateful day, Stephen could feel the energy bleeding from him. It charged the air between them, starting with snippets and jabs at each other, changing to something better the moment Tony had stepped out in front of the four of them to face down Thanos’s minion without hesitation. The smile he’d received after winking at Tony had sent his heart flipping out of control. It had the heady feeling of jumping from the top of a cliff, sure you can fly but weightless and freefalling until the moment your method of descent control kicks in. 

Now, doing what he can to help Tony return to the health and strength he hasn’t enjoyed in many years, Stephen finds that yet again, he is surprised and left in freefall, trying to catch up, a sensation that only this man in front of him has given him. Holding out his hands, he holds back the emotions that are running rampant through him, not sure that he is ready to share them or that Tony feels the same way. So much has happened and now that things are getting back to normal, he hesitates to impose. After all, Tony is still engaged to someone else. 

“Are you alright? That was quite the feat.” Stephen somehow manages to keep his voice smooth and even, despite how unsteady he is inside. 

“I feel fabulous!” Tony gives Stephen’s hands a light squeeze, glad to have something to hold onto. Bouncing in place now that he no longer has to hold still, he grins yet again at Stephen, overjoyed with everything right now. When Stephen grins back and winks at him, he almost jumps to hug him, then holds back, not sure how that would be received. 

Staring into each other’s eyes, they lose track of time, seconds passing by without notice, until they do and step back so quickly it’s nearly a jump, each regretting the breaking of the moment’s lucid silence, yet afraid to be caught in the act. Fear is the killer of such moments, one or the other worrying, thinking too much, concerned over the reaction of people that aren’t even around to judge. The shuffling of feet and clearing of throats cover the unexpected burst of affections brought out by the connection they have established between them. 

Tony, used to being caught out in the open, to hiding his true self behind meaningless banter, is the first to speak. “So, how many bedrooms does this place have? Care to give me a tour? I’ve been dying to see the rest of the place…”

His words trail off, the usual meaningless banter not so meaningless now, not after what has happened so very recently. Too recent to not have more weight than intended. 

Stephen wants to make light of that phrase, joke about coming back just for that reason, but he is still too stunned from what Tony did with the healing spell for the words to fall so easily from his mouth. Mostly it’s the fear that something inappropriate to the moment will fall out instead. He settles for a wry smile, one side of his face twisting upward while the other half holds back the urge to step closer, get closer, up into personal space that hasn’t been opened for him yet. The signs are there, it wouldn’t be unwelcome, but there’s a difference between not unwelcome and invited, as much as there is between no reason not to and every reason to wait. 

Seeing that wry smile sit on Stephen’s face, Tony gets the implication of words held back and knows, implicitly, deep down in those parts of him that he thought had drowned long ago, that this is his show. His call, his move, his dance to lead. The tension now is so thick he can feel it, invisible but burning as hot as anything he’s ever experienced stretching taut between them. Power of this magnitude is heady, light on oxygen, heavy on the chemicals that will send one into a frenzy of overdosed delight. With precision born of hours of delicate manipulations building things that are just as deadly if not as mutable as flesh, Tony pulls away from the moment, stretching those strings ever so carefully, not wanting any of them broken, to find neutral ground where he and Stephen can come to a point they dare step off together. 

They end up on the couch, fretting and shifting until they are settled and situated so that neither of them are any farther or closer together than what could be construed as anything more than two good friends, meeting after a long time apart. Facing each other, bodies turned just enough to ensure they can look at each other and resting their arms along the back of the couch, they sit in constrained silence for long seconds, waiting for words to show up and be spoken. Again gazes meet, taking in the view of the other, marking the lines and angles of the one they are watching, learning the tilt of a head, the curve of tiny smiles, wrinkles around the eyes.

Tony is the one to break the silence, remembering how Stephen deferred to him during the healing spell, how he allowed Tony to take the reins and hold the energy, a sign of trust built along previously laid foundations. Since the wink while they faced down that goon of Thanos’s. 

“I suppose we should talk about why I’m here.”

Stephen’s gaze lowers, his hands coming together to pick at some imagined flaw on a nail as he contemplates some point found on the couch cushion between them. “Yes, that’s as good a place to start as any.”

Tony fully understands the caution he hears in the other man’s tone, and is grateful for it. A sensation of edging out onto the frozen surface of a lake that is deeper than can be imagined forms in his mind and is hard to shake off. The song he’d been humming/singing earlier comes back to him, the words of the second verse hitting a line drive straight through his thoughts. 

_I wonder what tomorrow has in mind for me_  
_Or am I even in it's mind at all ___  
_Perhaps I'll get a chance to look ahead and see_  
_Soon as I find myself a crystal ball_  
_Soon as I find myself a crystal ball_

____

____

“You have a nice singing voice.” 

Stephen’s comment brings Tony back from wherever it is that his mind had wandered off to. It also tells him that he’d been singing those lyrics out loud, not just inside his head. His cheeks heated now, he ducks his head, finding his gaze drawn by those fingers of Stephen’s once again. This time they are casually folded together, laying in the juncture where Stephen’s raised leg crosses under the one still braced on the floor. Before he can stop himself with too many thoughts, Tony reaches out and takes one of them in his own hands, cupping it gently, his fingers curling around the crooked and scarred flesh. The contact helps him feel grounded again, able to focus on what he wants to say.

“Thank you, Stephen,” Tony says his name to get him to look up. When he does, Tony squeezes the hand in his grip again and continues. “I am not sure how to say what is on my mind. Ever since...since we’ve, since we returned, I can’t go back to, to how, to the way, I just can’t…”

Stuttering the words out, forcing them off of his tongue until they finally come to a stop, Tony drops his gaze, defeated by his own inability to voice his deepest thoughts aloud. He slumps against the couch back, eyesight blurry as he grips those cool, slender fingers, fighting back tears of shame and dejection.

“Hey, it’s okay,” comes to him soft and low, mere whispers of comfort as Stephen’s free hand covers his own, wrapping them both in a soft clasp. They stretch out over the intervening distance, hands wrapped together for moments stretching out without any measured increments. A gentle tug on his hands invites Tony to look up once again to see Stephen, his arms now outstretched, inviting him in for a hug. Aching to be held, to be needed and comforted all at once, Tony leans forward until he is up on his knees and heading for Stephen’s embrace.

Somehow, Tony manages to get his arms around Stephen’s waist as the doctor’s arms wrap around his shoulders, pulling him up and snugging him close until they are fitted together in every curve and angle of their bodies. Tony’s head rests against Stephen’s chest, heart beat in his ear, susurration of breath a barely heard whisper. 

“My arc reactor’s not -?” Tony murmurs against the blue robe, breathing deeply of the herbal and faintly burnt smell of the folded cloth.

“No, not in the least. You’re fine right where you are.” 

Stephen’s breath stirs the hairs on Tony’s head, a soothing sensation that’s only faintly sensual at this moment. Those long, slender fingers rub and massage Tony’s rib muscles, down as far as they can reach and back up again, across the shoulders and down the spine. Thinking how right he was about the hands now touching him, he floats, at peace, until he sleeps.


	2. You know it's you, Babe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 199999 - MCU - Post Infinity War
> 
> [Babe ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uBi61pgDUP8)  
> Artist: Styx  
> Album: Cornerstone  
> Released: 1979  
> Genre: Classic rock  
> B-side: "I'm O.K."
> 
> [Lyrics](https://www.azlyrics.com/lyrics/styx/babe.html)
> 
> Comments Welcome!

Tony came to awareness the best way possible, in his opinion. Slowly awakening to the sweet feel of someone’s heartbeat while wrapped in the arms of that person. Stephen’s hand lay on his cheek, cupping his jaw with those long, tender fingers as he slept peacefully beneath him. Not wanting to disturb this idyllic moment, he does his best to remain perfectly still, but there is something on his back and it is beginning to make his skin itch. 

It feels like a cross between heavy weight paper and coarse cloth, but weighs a good three or four pounds, easy, and covers his back almost completely across his shoulders. He’s guessing it’s a book, though why it’s on his back is a mystery for all of four seconds until his brain clears and it’s obvious that Stephen had remained here in this position all while he slept and eventually fell asleep while reading this tome. The image ignites in Tony a warm and fuzzy heat unlike anything he’s ever felt before. Moved beyond any capacity to describe, he lays there for several more moments, fighting back the urge to express the emotions he is currently experiencing. Not that he’s afraid to express them, other than he is worried about them not being reciprocated, but that he doesn’t want this moment to end just because of an itch he wants scratched. 

He focuses instead on the feel of Stephen underneath him, how his arm wraps around the lean waist, his shoulder snuggled right up under Stephen’s. Because of the way Stephen is reclined, back against a cushion propped on the arm of the couch, there's room beneath him so Tony's hand isn't getting laid on. The blue cloth beneath his cheek is folded and stitched in peculiar patterns stretched out sideways as he peers at them from where his cheek rests against Stephen’s chest. Slow breaths raise and lower that chest, relaxing him as he feels his own breathing rhythm begin to align with it. Thinking about how their bodies are fitted together down lower is where Tony finds himself getting into trouble. 

Narrow hips and muscular legs, evidence of physical training to go along with the mental capacity that he’s seen plenty of, especially in the past few months, give Tony goosebumps as he mentally notates where along his own body they come in contact. A tightening in his groin has his breath catching at the feel of Stephen’s knee between his thighs. Tony closes his eyes again, willing himself not to move, not to do more than just breathe, as he drags his mind back up to where his left arm is tucked alongside Stephen’s body and up under his shoulder. Ignoring the knee that holds his hips steady, Stephen’s foot still braced on the floor as it had been, is decidedly harder after his mind slips back into the gutter to point it out. 

“If you have to use the restroom, you can just get up and go, y’know.” Stephen’s soft murmur from above his head comes as the hand moves from Tony’s face and the book floats up and away, closing with a thwup before landing on the desk with a solid thump. The amusement in his voice brings a smile to Tony’s face as he wonders how long Stephen has been awake. 

“I just woke up. But then I dozed off only a couple of hours ago.” 

Answering Tony’s unvoiced question, Stephen feels a stretch coming on and tries to fight it off. He wants to stretch, but with Tony laying over him, he’s afraid it might get awkward. As with most involuntary functions though, his body refuses to listen to reason and demands that his muscles contract and contort his limbs anyway, nevermind what his conscience might think. His limbs reach out, stiffening and twisting him around, pushing against Tony’s weight and triggers a responding stretch from him. Tony rolls over him, torso going half-off the couch, legs tangling with his own, arms over his head until his center mass tips him off of Stephen, necessitating that he be caught or fall to the floor. 

He catches Tony under the arm, sliding his own around Tony’s ribs and pulling him back onto the couch. Their stretches abandon them, leaving them limp and tangled together, awkwardly grinning at each other. Awkward though it may be for them on a social level, it feels wonderful to Stephen. Warm and just weighty enough to be insistent, Tony’s body seems to fit against his as though custom made for it. Aroused by his position, yet reluctant to move, Stephen waits, wanting Tony to take the lead here so he doesn’t impose upon him. 

The intimate contact also allows him a small degree of telepathy, something Tony hasn’t questioned yet. So far, the only thoughts he’s caught have been surface questions, fully formed. Not really surprising, considering how much Tony has had to hide from those around him. Stephen is certain Tony isn’t even aware of how much of himself he has hidden away, from everyone and from himself. Reminding himself not to take advantage of this, Stephen looks down to see if Tony is anywhere near as flustered as he is, only to find the man grinning up at him, hair tousled, cheeks dusted with just a hint of redness. 

“Whoops, that was almost bad. Good catch there, Doc.”

“Well, I’d hate to let you hit the floor. I’ve only started getting you fixed.” Stephen is grateful his sass-o-meter is still intact and working. That grin is seriously messing with his breathing and heart rate. 

“I’m sorry. I guess it’s your fault, then, that we’re in this position. I didn’t mean to fall asleep on you. Should I get off?” 

Tony’s eyebrows raise and do that funny wiggle that reminds Stephen of caterpillars dancing. The catch of his breath contradicts the weight in his heart, making it hard for him to decide whether to laugh at him, or something else. What else, he can’t determine right now, not breathless as he is. The last thing he wants though, is for Tony to move from where he is at the moment. 

“No, you’re fine where you are. It’s my fault, actually.” Shifting his arms around, Stephen frees his left hand from under Tony’s body and lays it over his bare shoulders. The fingers tremble and shake, rocking back and forth minutely, a testament to not having moved in a couple of hours. He presses them down against warm flesh, palm flat against skin to stop the tremors. It is mostly reflex now, instead of anger or embarrassment, but he doesn’t like to draw attention to it. Of course, Tony notices.

The light staccato of Stephen's fingers on his back before the palm is pressed to stop the tremors triggers a strong desire in Tony to press his lips against those fingers, then the palm, then up that arm and onward from there, every kiss a tender declaration. Needing a distraction, from where he is and where he wants to be, he latches on to Stephen's last words.

“Your fault? Well, yeah, you ensorcelled me. Made me fall asleep on you.” 

He shifts to place his chin on his left hand, propping it up so he can properly stare at Stephen's face, watching, enjoying the subtle play of emotions there behind his perceived haughtiness. The arrogance is a mask, something Tony had recognized almost the moment he'd meet Stephen. Now it is a thin layer, a veneer held onto out of habit, though he is sure it had been thick and impenetrable at one time, back before his breaking point. It's not something they've talked about, yet. Tony has done his research, learning more about this man eventually, though now it's a moot point, but better late than never. 

“No, not specifically,” Stephen's brows furrow together, “though for a minute I thought I was going to have to. Most people, when they go through a cleansing spell, end up passing out immediately after. Only those who have had training, normally, are able to take control like you did. Even then,” he shakes his head, echoes of the awe he'd felt showing again in his countenance, “the only way you fell asleep was when you relaxed while laying on me.”

“Is that the reason why you hugged me?” Tony tenses up, his back arching up incrementally, as his head raises up off his hand. The rest of his body becomes still as his senses go on alert, preparing a way to escape, to run. 

Stephen hears the sentence twice, the unedited version in Tony's head, then the shorter spoken one. The unspoken word 'only’ before ‘reason’ stung more than the addendum ‘to get me to fall asleep’. In the seconds that it takes for Tony’s preparation to withdraw, Stephen knows he doesn’t want him to. 

“No.” Stephen's response is quick, reflexive. Swallowing against a sudden lump in his throat, his fingers begin kneading the muscles of Tony's shoulders in reaction to him tensing up with that question. “You looked like you needed a hug. For a long time now, I, heh, hmm, ah, have wanted to, ah, hmm -”

“Same,” Tony interjects, halting Stephen's hesitant admission. “Since the return. That one moment wasn't…”

They share a look, remembering the same thing. That instant when everything had returned to how it should be. Everyone gathering together, people in groups everywhere, hugging and laughing and crying. The Avengers hadn't been any different, everything that had gone wrong forgotten in the joy of being back together. Tony had grabbed Stephen, kissed his cheek, hugged him so tightly. Stephen had reciprocated. 

Then Peter had jumped on Tony's shoulders, squealing with delight. For a moment, it was a small frenzy of Tony and his protege spinning around, squalling and yelling, teary eyed and hugging each other until they'd been joined by all the others. Stephen had stepped back, reticent to get in the middle of all that. By the time Tony had come to find him, it had become awkward again. 

“... enough. I agree.” Stephen finishes Tony's sentence, his hand pausing as he gaze into those whiskey brown eyes, feeling as though he taken a shot of liquor, the way the warmth is spreading throughout his chest. Raising his hand slowly, hesitantly, he combs his fingers through Tony’s rumpled hair, smoothing it down, soothing him, coaxing him into relaxing again. 

For a fraction of a second, Tony rests his cheek in Stephen’s palm, then decides he wants more, but also doesn’t want to move too fast. Halting and fragile, this newly conceived connection between them can’t be rushed or forced, but needs to be nurtured and cared for so it can grow without being blasted or trampled. Pulling back, he raises up on his knees and settles down, reaching out to help Stephen sit up as well. When both of them are upright, eliminating any awkward positioning between them, Tony opens his arms, inviting Stephen into another embrace, this one on equal terms. 

Watching Stephen’s gaze darken with emotion as he moves in for the embrace, Tony’s heart is racing, fueled by desire and anxiety taking turns on the accelerator. Half hoping for more, greedy as he is, he is touched and filled with joy when one of Stephen’s arms slips around his waist, the other going over his shoulder. He does the same, their bodies crossing and fitting together, curving around each other, faces turning in to breathe each other’s scent. They hold onto each other with a sudden urgency born from going too long without this intimacy, without this level of trust and shared desire. 

Gripping Stephen’s robe now, embraced in his arms, Tony can give in and release his emotions, trusting in return the person who had trusted him the most to hold him without judgement. A couple of sobs break loose as he buries his face in the nook of Stephen’s neck, the soft, blue cloth catching his tears. Rocking back and forth, his motion is matched by the other man’s, both of them now experiencing release from the tension of the past few months. Stephen’s fingers in his hair, cradling the back of his head as their motion slows, has Tony calming down, warmed by the echo of emotion in his response. When he sniffs and become still, he hears Stephen whispering against his shoulder, tears in his voice.

_“I’m so sorry, Tony. Please forgive me. I didn’t want to hurt you, but there was no other way. Forgive me, please, if you can.”_

The order of the words changes with each repetition, but the sentiment remains the same, spoken so rapidly they almost run together, in the tone of a mantra oft repeated. Tony spreads his hands over Stephen’s back, squeezing him close before rubbing up and down his back, soothing him as he’d been soothed earlier. He tilts his head to find Stephen’s ear and finding it, begins to repeat Stephen’s words back to him.

“Hey, it’s okay. Everything’s going to be okay. Stephen, it's okay.” Releasing his hold around the distraught man, Tony leans back a little, reaches up and curls his hand around the back of Stephen's neck. Head still tilted, he looks up, expecting to see tears and sorrow. Instead he finds Stephen studying him, one eyebrow quirked higher than the other. He was distracted by the quizzical half smile for a moment, before reading the mess of emotions in Stephen's eyes. Tipping his head even farther, he can't help but comment.

“I thought I heard…”

An embarrassed smile covering his face, Stephen drops his gaze and sighs. Before Tony can say anything more, he looks up and reaches out to cup Tony's cheeks in his hands.

{“Can you hear this?”} He thinks, then again, before Tony can do more than open his mouth in surprise, he leans forward, planting a kiss on him that captures his mouth, opening his own mouth a little to connect fully with those lips. A tiny chuckle rumbles in his throat as he sends another thought Tony's way. {“I love you, so much.”}

Tony's world is reeling, carpet yanked from under his feet, spun right round, earth quaking, 52 card pickup, shaken not stirred, before coming down in a whole new configuration. Stephen's voice in his head, the kiss, the realization that he'd been hearing Stephen's thoughts apologizing, the next revelation that Stephen had been answering his unasked questions. It takes him a good thirty seconds before he can overcome his shock and properly respond, by which time his system tells him it needs oxygen. Breaking free, gasping to draw in air, he says the only words that come to mind.

“I know.”

Chuckling now, Stephen drops his hands and shakes his head. “So you’re Han Solo now? Does that mean I’m Leia?”

“Sure,” Tony shrugs one of his shoulders, his smile feeling goofy as he watches Stephen’s reaction, an old habit that annoys him but is too ingrained to stop without effort. “I am more of a scoundrel than you. I’ve had years of practice. Besides,” he takes one of Stephen’s hands in his and raises it to his lips to kiss the middle knuckle gently, “you like me because I’m a scoundrel.”

A blush spreads over Stephen’s cheekbones, darkening his skin even as a smile twists his mouth to the side, revealing his enjoyment in the big deal Tony is making of this whole thing. 

“There aren’t enough scoundrels in your life.” Tony continues with the lines from the movie, kissing the back of Stephen’s hand. He feels a small tug as Stephen tries to pull away, but refuses to let the hand go. Instead, he slides his hand into Stephen's, holding on now to make sure he can kiss it again. 

“I like nice men.” The smile fights harder to emerge on Stephen’s face as he looks off over Tony’s shoulder, a coy smugness ruining the reenactment. 

“We don’t have time to discuss this in a committee, princess.” Deliberately, Tony makes a hash of the lines, wanting to see how much he can get Stephen to blush before kissing him again. The flinch comes unexpectedly, minute but enough that Tony feels the withdrawal a few microseconds before Stephen plays it off by bringing Tony’s hand up to be kissed instead. 

“Oh, I’m sorry, Stephen,” Tony breathes out the apology, leaning in to rest his forehead on the other man’s. “Too far, I went. Forgive me?”

Shaking his head against any need for the apology, Stephen takes a deep breath. “No, I mean yes. It’s not you, it’s just {something from the past}. {My father…}”

Hearing this, both the spoken and unspoken words, Tony smirks and does his own headshake of rebuttal. “No, no. I’m apologizing because I always take it too far. Open mouth, insert foot. It’s how I dance so well.”

A bark of laughter escapes Stephen. “You’d do well in an ass-kicking contest, then,” he murmurs, knowing Tony appreciates the image from their intimate contact.

“Indeed. I’m the champ.” 

He pulls away, though not before Stephen catches the hint of a very inappropriate thought about fathers screwing up their kids and how all the asses he wants to kick are dead.

“Tony!” It slips out before he can stop it, but Stephen regrets it anyways.

“Oh this is going to be a pain in the butt. I didn’t say it out loud, did I?” Tony is abashed that Stephen caught that thought, defenses he’d deliberately lowered slamming up into place at that tone of voice. Getting up off the couch, he walks away, then turns and walks back. Rubbing his hands together, his fingers tangling around themselves, he pauses to consider his next words very carefully. He brings his steepled fingers up to his mouth, then points them at Stephen.

“We need some ground rules here, I think. Let’s start with no judgement over bad jokes.”

“Or taste in food.”

“That’s good. Previous relationships.” Tony perches on the edge of the couch, hands still clasped, smiling now.

“Or could-have-beens.” Stephen gives him a rueful grin. 

Tony grins back. “Something you want to share, Doc? How about none over hang-ups?”

“That’s what voicemail is for, Tony.” 

The serious look on Stephen’s face catches Tony off-guard. His eyebrow wrinkles down for a moment before the joke processes, then he’s falling back against the couch, busting out with laughter. 

“No, you doofus,” Reaching out, Tony captures Stephen’s hand again, wanting to feel that intimacy again. “Hang-ups, like y’know, faults. {I love every single one, even those I don’t know yet.}”

Blushing so hard, grinning so widely his cheek muscles threaten to spasm, Stephen pulls Tony’s hand up to hide his face, along with his own. He misses the huge, satisfied grin that blossoms on Tony’s face, but can feel the emotion and those lovely warm eyes on him as he struggles to recover his equilibrium. He whispers his reply against the skin of Tony’s hand. “Agreed. {And agreed, cheater.}”

Laughing out loud again, Tony allows Stephen his moment of recovery, then swoops in, asking the question he has been holding back on until now. “Why were you chanting an apology to me when we first hugged?”

Stephen marvels at how quickly Tony has figured this mental speaking out. It had taken him several months before he was able to hide one set of thoughts behind another. He admits that the distraction Tony had pulled was brilliant, and that he had forgotten that Tony had heard that. Those words, and variations on them, had served as his mantra during the time spent waiting for Tony to succeed with whatever plan he came up with. Repeating them had helped keep him focused on that one moment he had seen, amongst all the others, that had convinced him of the way to win against Thanos. Thinking back to when just a few weeks ago, if his inner time sense had been correct, he was almost convinced that something had gone wrong, those words and the thought of never getting to say them had been the only thing helping him stay on course. 

Knowing now that Tony can hear his surface thoughts, Stephen had quietly shielded himself before considering what to tell him about those unspoken words. The truth of them, that it was all he could think of while Tony was risking everything, carrying that unasked for burden, seems selfish in retrospect. Anything less than the truth could jeopardize what they now have. Torn, Stephen bows his head, resting against Tony’s hand still gripped in his. 

“Because I’ve been wanting to say those words to you, in one form or another, ever since -” his voice cracks, overtaken by the very emotions he had thought were under control. Stephen swallows hard, licking his lips as he searches for his voice, for words that had been so easy in his mind a moment ago. “You didn’t deserve -”

His lips are sealed by Tony’s other hand before he can say anymore. Closing his eyes against the pain in his heart, tears escape his eyelids to slide down cheeks gone taut, heated by too much emotion in such a short time. Tony’s hand is pulled from his grasp and he lets it go, weakened and tired by the despair he’d thought to keep locked away now that it is no longer needed. Tony’s body shifts on the couch and Stephen can feel the air move as he comes closer, until their legs are touching, his knee and shin pressing against Tony’s thigh. Even this contact is more than he’d hoped for during that time away. Fingers press against his cheeks, wiping the tears gently until they are mostly gone, leaving only damp tracks to dry on their own. No thoughts come through the contact, only an overwhelming sense of love, and care, and hope. 

A whisper comes to him from mere inches away, Tony speaking so softly he can hear him breathing louder than the words he is saying. 

“I know how you feel, I do. But, I just want to say two things. Okay?”

Stephen nods, tears no longer slipping from red-rimmed eyes. He hadn't meant to let loose this way, but holding Tony, kissing Tony, this hoped for but unexpected intimacy with Tony, it had overwhelmed him. 

There had been no way for him to express anything before it happened. The short time they'd had together before he and half of everyone had gone away, those few minutes leading up to his decision to use the Time Stone, hadn’t prepared him to fall so deeply in love. Cliche though it might be, that had been the start of it, and the end of him not being in love with this man had been the search for a way to win against impossible odds. Viewing all those possible futures and seeing Tony be the hero, seeing Tony's demise in every time but one, because of who Tony is, how he has always reacted to others being in danger, had led him down a slippery slope, but one that he wouldn’t have abandoned if he wanted to. 

Stephen had also looked back along timelines, checking points in time to make sure every action that led to this point, the point that pivoted solely on Tony being himself, was stable and would remain so even after the point arriving in the near future. That action had cemented his love deep within his heart, until it became part of him, as though it had never not been there. 

Tony touches the skin next to the thin line of hair on Stephen’s cheek, near his mouth, with his thumb. The rest of his hand spread out across Stephen's jaw, cradling his face. He wants Stephen to hear the truth of what he is about to say, wants it known by this man that what he says is what he means.

“When you first handed over that stone, the Time Stone, I didn’t understand. When you, and everyone else, disappeared, when Peter,” Tony has to swallow hard at that, he hadn’t meant to mention names, but it slipped, so he had to recover and continue before he couldn’t, “turned to dust in my arms, I hated what you had done. I hated that you left me alone to do the impossible. I was so angry, so very angry, and distraught. If Nebula hadn’t been there, I would have ripped that place, that planet, apart until there was nothing left but an asteroid field.”

Taking a deep breath, Tony holds onto it for several seconds, his heart pounding against his ribs, against the reactor he no longer needs but wears as a connection to himself. His hand twitches against Stephen’s cheek, bringing him back to what he is trying to say. Looking up, he brings his gaze to meet Stephen’s, blue eyes dark and still shining with unshed tears, but filled with such depth that he is drowning in them. 

“I almost lost it. I let rage and grief overtake me until I didn’t know where I began or ended. When we arrived on Earth, I swore that if there were any others of my family that had gone to dust, I, heh, I was going to rain down destruction upon all those that had dismissed my pronouncements that others were coming to find Earth, that we needed to be ready. Because I blamed them for what happened, just as much as I blamed that monster. But Nebula was the one who kept her calm in the face of my rage. She risked her life to face me, before we walked out there, off the ship, to face those that were left.”

Tony remembers how bereft he’d been when he’d gotten through his initial grief and anger and processed everything that Stephen had told him, back when everyone had gone to dust with that snap, that inanely simple gesture from that monstrosity. It had taken less time than expected to return to Earth with Nebula in the spacecraft that had belonged to her sister's crew, no time to sleep with his brain running at high speed, taking in all that information, processing it instead of his grief and rage. Not until he’d very nearly suffered a complete meltdown and she’d stepped in close to him, taken him by the shoulders and voiced what he’d had the most difficult time accepting. He was the one that Stephen had entrusted, he was the one way to save everything. 

“She told me that you had chosen me to save everyone, to win against these impossible odds, because you had faith in me. You trusted me, not because I was Iron Man. But because I was Tony Stark. You placed your faith in me and for that, you need no forgiveness. You are the reason I was able to do what needed done, Stephen. All that pain, that rage and grief, I have already forgiven you for that, because you believed in me.”

Nodding again, with more emphasis this time, Stephen can feel Tony’s heartbeat in the tips of his fingers against his face. He swears he will remember this moment for the rest of his life, storing it away in his mind to light up any future dark days. Lifting his hand, he places his palm against Tony’s cheek.

“Thank you.”

“{And yes, I love you too.}” Tony smirks as he sends that thought Stephen’s way. 

Slipping his hand around the back of Stephen’s head, Tony initiates the kiss this time, lightly touching his lips against Stephen’s until the doctor’s lips part, allowing warm breath out to mingle with his. Pulling him close, Stephen can’t help but listen to the thoughts he can hear, finding Tony’s imagination to be one of the sexiest things about him. It’s even sexier when he hears a song in Tony’s thoughts that he hadn’t heard in a very long time. 

_“You know it's you babe_  
_Whenever I get weary_  
_And I've had enough_  
_Feel like giving up_  
_You know it's you babe_  
_Givin' me the courage_  
_And the strength I need_  
_Please believe that it's true_  
_Babe, I love you “_


	3. Fooling Yourself (The Angry Young Man)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [Fooling Yourself (The Angry Young Man)](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RwPS19swwiA)  
>  Artist: Styx  
> Album: The Grand Illusion  
> Released: 1977  
> [Lyrics](https://www.azlyrics.com/lyrics/styx/foolingyourselftheangryyoungman.html)
> 
> Comments Welcome!

The kiss comes to a pleasant end and Tony snuggles into the nook of Stephen’s shoulder, loving how intimate it is without being demanding. Stephen’s cheek resting on his, arms around his waist, legs holding his up, Tony can’t think of a time when he felt more at peace that this moment. He’s humming that song softly now, caught up in how perfectly it fits his feelings for this man. In the back of his mind, he knows he’ll eventually have to address the reason he came here in the first place, but for now, he is content to stay here, holding onto this instance. 

Stephen’s soft rumble of laughter is felt more than heard. 

“[Babe](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uBi61pgDUP8). Styx, again. From the Cornerstone album, released in 1979. B-side: [I'm O.K.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0RZNBEfXVkI). Do you normally have a thing for Styx? I always pictured you as more of a,” Stephen peeks into Tony’s mind, just enough to pick out his favorite band before continuing, “AC/DC or George Thorogood kinda guy.”

“George Thorogood? I guess, but Black Sabbath would be more like it.” Tony produces a razzy noise with his mouth as he opens his eyes, just to find Stephen regarding him with amusement glinting in his gaze. “Ah, I see. Trying to get a rise out of me, hmm. What’s up, Doc? Why you crashing the party here?”

“I was going to ask if you are hungry? I have some business to take care of soon and thought we might grab a bite to eat while we’re out.” A touch of a blush on Stephen’s cheekbones hints at his excitement for this request. 

Tony wants to eat, but also wants to refuse, not ready to go anywhere right now. He is hesitant about making this thing between him and Stephen public right now. His and Pepper’s engagement had just been printed in all the big papers only a couple of days ago. If he were to be seen out with Stephen, nevermind that they could try to pass it off as nothing more than friends, Tony can’t see himself or Stephen pretending, and he definitely can’t see himself keeping his hands off this gorgeous man, especially after declaring his love and having it returned so adamantly. Pretending to be something, or not in this case, has become unacceptable. 

Opening his mouth to politely decline the invitation, Tony is interrupted by his stomach grumbling and gurgling loudly. Giving a short bark of laughter, he looks down at it with a perturbed roll of his eyes. “Betrayal is it, then?”

Chuckling, Stephen pushes Tony’s legs off his own, rising to his feet. “Well, do you prefer Pad Thai or Dim Sum?”

“Shawarma is good. There’s a nice little place over on -”

“We’re going out of the city, Tony.” Stephen interrupts him softly, caressing his cheek. When Tony glances up, he leans down to place a light kiss on his lips, then straightens up and beckons to the cloak still hovering behind the couch. It flies over to settle onto Stephen’s shoulders as he heads out of the room.

Tony sits there for a few moments, lost in the blissfulness of that kiss, so casual, yet so perfectly in tune with his emotions right now. Taking a deep breath, he realizes he is shirtless still, from the cleansing Stephen had done on him. He’d been so comfortable here that his normal reticence about showing his body had completely vanished. Chalking that up as a win on Stephen’s side, he turns around, searching for his shirt. The jacket he’d been wearing turns up when he stands, wrinkled and warm from him sitting and laying on it all night. That gets him to wondering what time it is and where his glasses had gone to. 

His shirt comes flying across the room, tossed by Stephen standing in the doorway, cloak on and smirking at him. “Your glasses are on the desk. Hurry now, we need to be leaving soon.”

Wagging his head from side to side, Tony mouths noises mimicking the words Stephen had said, even as he walks over to grab his glasses. He pulls on his shirt and slides the glasses on his face, glancing up to the right to trigger the normal functions to come on. The time shows as 9:47 PM EST, which is later than he feels it should be and earlier than he’d suspected. His voicemail also shows as full of messages, as does his textbox and other methods of contact. 

That dark, angry feeling, the one that had prompted his trip into the city in the first place, blossoms again in his chest, infesting his mind and weighing down his buoyancy until he is filled with a loathing that is reminiscent of his earlier years. Yanking the glasses off, he tosses them back on the desk, followed by his phone. After a moment of glaring at them there, he picks up the phone again and taps it on. He brings up several menus and accesses the settings section, then pauses, reviewing the active files. Twisting his head up and to the side, a curious gesture he makes when doing something rebellious, he begins flicking windows out of the boundaries, deactivating and dismissing the apps and protocols they are connected to. 

Coming into the room once more, Stephen finds himself surprised to see Tony at his desk, angrily flicking away sections of the displays projecting from his phone. The glasses are on the other side of the desk, the way they lay, uneven and skewed sideways, evidence of them having been tossed there out of more than carelessness. The set of Tony’s shoulders support the theory that he’s upset, leading Stephen to conclude it has something to do with why Tony showed up on his doorstep today. Not just for the pleasantries they’ve enjoyed, as much as that would stoke his own ego, but something deeper, something Tony can’t or won’t share with any others around him. 

The question of why Tony would come to him is easily answered. Stephen isn’t dependent on Tony in any way, shape, or form. He is the ultimate neutral party, only concerned with Tony’s welfare and nothing more. From Tony’s actions, Stephen would be willing to bet he hasn’t even admitted to himself why he’s here, though that song he’d been singing when Stephen had first invited him in is a big clue. 

_“I wonder what tomorrow has in mind for me_  
_Or am I even in it's mind at all_  
_Perhaps I'll get a chance to look ahead and see_  
_Soon as I find myself a crystal ball”_ \- Crystal Ball [Styx]

Stephen hasn’t had the chance to look ahead as Tony might wish him to do. Even if he had, he is sure that the response to such a thing might be similar to the one he gave his own master, the night she died after that fight with Kaecilius. 

_“I’ve looked at your future many times, Stephen. Would you like to know what I saw?” The Ancient One turned to him, that enigmatic smile playing around her mouth even now as they stand here in their astral forms discussing her imminent death._

_“No.” Stephen was quick to reply. Too quick for the truth, making her smile for real until he had to lower his eyes and admit it. “Yes.”_

He is about to step into the study area and call to Tony when he stops. Tony has activated his AI through his phone and Stephen can’t help but overhear the conversation.

“FRIDAY, I need you to cancel any plans I have for the near future. I’m not going to be able to make...I won’t have the time...ah, let’s just say I’m not available for the next few weeks. Personal leave or something.”

“I’ve done that, Boss, but there are people trying to reach you -”

“Block all incoming calls. I’m not available.”

“Yes, Boss. Where shall I say you are?”

“Personal leave, like I said.” His tone is irritable, giving it an edge he normally doesn’t use with his creations. 

FRIDAY isn’t sure how to deal with this new aspect of her Boss, as she continues to ask questions, searching for logical results. “Pepper isn’t going to like that, Boss. She’s been trying to call you for hours now. She’s -”

“Block all calls, divert them to voicemail if you have to. Tell everyone that I won’t be available until further notice.”

“Yes, Boss.” FRIDAY sounds nervous, triggering Tony’s protective instincts.

“It’s alright, FRIDAY. I’m fine. I just needs some time away. A vacation. A retreat. Time for myself. Stop worrying.” He tries to laugh, but it comes out shaky, so he stops. 

“Very well, Boss. I’m sending your voicemail messages out now.”

“Thank you. Oh and FRIDAY?”

“Yes, Boss?”

“Keep them from tracing this contact between us. I don’t want them knowing where I am until I’m ready to come back. Got it?”

“Yes, Boss, but…”

“But what? What happened, FRIDAY?” Tony’s voice has overtones of concern, but his empty hand has clenched into a fist, to the point of his fingers going white with the pressure. The rigidity of his back has increased, and Stephen can see the muscles of his neck tensing up, causing his head to tip to the side. 

“Ms Potts already has, Boss.” FRIDAY’s voice fades to a whisper on the last word. Stephen is impressed with her presentation. She had known Tony wouldn’t be happy with her announcement and like any good, real assistant, flinched at the telling. 

Tony is so used to his creations and their mannerisms, he probably doesn’t even notice, not consciously anyway. Besides, at this moment, he’s too angry to acknowledge something that subtle. Not bothering to end the call, he grips the phone until his knuckles are white. His jaw is clenched as well, now, his face going flush as he attempts to get out words. Then it’s like a switch is thrown and he goes completely still. His hand falls to the desk, the phone thumping the wooden top with a small clatter. Shoulders slumped, he shakes his head back and forth a couple of times. His left hand, hanging down at his side, falls open, fingers slightly curled.

“Fine,” he mutters, letting out a deep sigh that seems to deflate him even more. “Let her know I’ll be here.”

“No!” 

Stephen doesn’t shout it, but he says it with enough force that Tony is caught out by it. Surprised, he turns around as Stephen strides across the room to take the phone out of Tony’s loosened grip on the desk. Flipping it over, Stephen finds the main button and taps it. FRIDAY’s voice comes out, sounding just as surprised as Tony looks.

“Hello, Dr Strange. Can I help you?”

“Yes. Please tell anyone that is wanting to speak with Tony that he is not available and we won’t be home. Thank you. That is all.” Pushing the main button again, Stephen hands it back to Tony, who is staring at him, gape-mouthed, trying to pick between being angry at Stephen touching his phone, and amused at his propensity for drama. With a smile, Stephen reaches out and caresses Tony’s cheek. “You aren’t cancelling on me, Tony.”

“Looks like I’ll have to, Stephen. Pepper is on her way here. Which means everyone else is going to be here soon. Everyone wants a meeting, needs my opinion, just has to tell me something that just can’t wait. What else can I do?” 

Tony shrugs his shoulders, used to being the main attraction in this madness called the hero-business. He’s smiling, acting like he still loves the spotlight, like he doesn’t mind having these expectations laid on him all the time. 

Stephen can see the lines of tiredness around his eyes, though. He reads the tightening around Tony’s mouth and remembers how many times he had told his AI that he wasn’t available, only to have her tell him that his fiance had set it up to track him down as soon as he made contact. It’s not something he wants to do, but he knows Tony won’t do it himself. Drastic measures need to be taken if he and Tony are to have any kind of a future that is more than just casual friends. Call him selfish and he wouldn’t deny it, but Stephen cares for Tony too much to allow him to be run ragged this way. 

“Very well then, Tony. I’d hoped this wouldn’t happen, but if this is the way things are meant to be, then so be it.” Stephen swallows against the lump in his throat, ignores the pain in his heart and lifts his chin, his demeanor cold now. “Go ahead and wait for Pepper here. But know this, when you leave, I won’t see you again until your wedding. You can’t, no, you shouldn’t let them take advantage of you like this. I can’t stop you. But that doesn’t mean I have to watch it happen.”

The hurt in Tony’s eyes almost breaks Stephen. He has to force himself to not look away, to not blink, or show emotions, or let Tony know in anyway how close he is to cracking. If he caves now, they both lose. Remembering his youth, his drive and ambition to become the greatest surgeon, Stephen calls on that willpower now to resist crumbling at the sight of tears in the eyes of his beloved.

“You’re, heh, you’re telling me that I have to choose?” Tony’s voice cracks and grates over the tears in his throat as he forces the words out. “What’s up with that, Doc?”

“It’s for your own good, Tony.” Stephen holds up a hand, stopping Tony’s words before he gets them out, wanting to say what’s been on his mind for the last few hours, indeed for several days now. “As your friend, your doctor, and as someone who loves you, I’m asking you to choose the way that will let you take care of yourself. You need to think about yourself or you’ll find that you have given everything away and have nothing left. I know it sounds like I’m telling you to be selfish, and in a way, I am. But Tony, if you don’t, it’s going to kill you.”

Frowning, he lowers his gaze from the pain in those beautiful eyes, hating that he has to do this the hard way. Taking a deep breath, his hands wandering up to pluck at the zipper on Tony’s jacket, Stephen sighs and finishes what he has to say.

“I can’t watch you give in to the demands of all those that, until recently, didn’t respect you enough to pay attention and thought that they knew better than you. I know,” he looks up and catches Tony’s gaze again, “that you think you are making up for all those years that you wasted in your youth. You’ve already done that, and more. Now is the time for your own dreams to come true. You know what they are, but until you allow yourself the chance to admit to them, to say them out loud and focus on them, you’re gonna give and give, and everyone will take and take until there is nothing left.”

Shaking his head, Stephen chops the air in an X with his hands, emphasizing his words. “But not me. I won’t do that.” Head high, eyes glistening, his voice shakes with resolution and something more. “I respect your boundaries. I respect you, and nothing will ever change the fact that I love you. Probably more than you love yourself. That will come, in time. It starts with setting boundaries, Tony. Make them let you have your time to heal. Make them ask for consent, instead of assuming it.”

Tony is speechless. His body has gone numb. Stephen’s words, his attitude, is not something Tony had ever thought he’d be subjected to. He’s seen it before. The willpower of the man is phenomenal. Somehow, Tony had thought he would be immune, or exempt. Yet here it is, here he is, Stephen telling him that if he leaves with Pepper, it’s over between them. This new thing, what has barely begun to grow, the thing that is even now, giving him hope as he stands here facing the possibility of it being taken away. He shakes his head back and forth, mouthing words that refuse to take form, that taste like ash on his tongue. 

It’s not that he wants to leave. Leaving is the last thing on his mind, unless it’s to go with Stephen to wherever he is heading now on some kind of business. Tony admits now that he truly is done with being the one that all the others come running to, including the shocking fact that Pepper is among those he doesn’t want to have to deal with right now. He is done with all of it. The politics, the governmental demands, the media, everything. Hearing FRIDAY, his own child-creation, continue to bother him about those who are bothering her, he had felt like his very soul was being crushed down to fit back into the box that he had worked so hard to build, the one with the label on it that he had never expected to despise. 

Faint music plays in his head, reminding him of yet another song from his youth.  
_“You see the world through your cynical eyes_  
_You're a troubled young man I can tell_  
_You've got it all in the palm of your hand_  
_But your hand's wet with sweat and your head needs a rest”_

Only now, faced with the possibility of losing what could be the very best thing that has ever happened to him, he finds that nothing compares. Not even discovering his talent for innovation and his genius flare for getting his ingenuity to work for him. The discovery that hurts him the most to admit is that however much he loves Pepper, he isn’t in love with her. It makes him wonder if she is marrying him because he expects her to, just as she has done so much else for him for the very same reason. It hurts, but more in the way ripping off a bandage hurts. The more he considers it, the more his head begins to nod up and down, instead of shake back and forth. The words are still not there, but he can tell they are building up inside. First he has to get Stephen to understand this revelation he’s had.

_"And you're fooling yourself if you don't believe it_  
_You're kidding yourself if you don't believe it_  
_Why must you be such an angry young man_  
_When your future looks quite bright to me_  
_How can there be such a sinister plan_  
_That could hide such a lamb, such a caring young man"_

“Fine,” he nods, folding his arms to hide a sudden shiver. Stephen has continued to stare at him since he’d made his statement, the coolness in his eyes and the tilt of his chin telling Tony that he won’t budge, won’t retract his words. Tony has to tell him what he has chosen or Stephen will leave him behind. Which means Tony would have to leave, both this place and Stephen, and he has discovered that this is not what he wants. 

_"You're fooling yourself if you don't believe it_  
_You're kidding yourself if you don't believe it_  
_Get up, get back on your feet_  
_You're the one they can't beat and you know it_  
_Come on, let's see what you've got_  
_Just take your best shot and don't blow it”_

Raising his head to meet Stephen’s gaze straight on, soul laid bare in his eyes, Tony makes his own statement. “I’m coming with you. Everyone else can go hang.”

The moment those words come out, Stephen’s cold exterior melts. Proof shows by the appearance of tears in his eyes, and how his face crumples as he flings his arms around Tony, hugging him tighter than he has ever before. Sliding his arms around that lean waist, Tony buries his faces against Stephen’s shoulder, kissing the bare skin just above the collar of that blue robe he loves seeing on him, the one that smells so soothing. Gripping the back of the robe, Tony lays his cheek against Stephen’s neck.

“If you ever do that to me again, { _Don’t ever do that to me again._ }” he murmurs against the warmth and the pulse he feels there. 

Stephen reaches up to bury his hands in Tony’s hair, his cheek pressing against Tony’s ear as he massages the tense neck muscles beneath his touch. 

“I’m so sorry, Tony. I didn’t want to hurt you like that. { _I don’t want to lose you. Not again._ } I only want you to take care of yourself. { _To heal and be whole._ }” 

They pull back, each searching for, then finding their gazes connecting, down to a deeper level, pulling them in until their surroundings fade away. Tony lifts his hand and runs his thumb along Stephen’s cheekbone, blotting away the tears there, the connection bringing him an influx of emotion that he is reluctant to let go of. His hand ends up resting around the curve of Stephen’s neck, a gentle touch keeping the connection intact. 

Returning the favor, Stephen’s hands caress Tony’s face, thumbs running along his cheeks and smoothing the hair on his face as his fingers curl around the edge of his jaw. Lowering his brows, his gaze drops down a little and he goes in for another kiss, needing, wanting, more. 

Seeing that look on Stephen’s face, Tony can’t help but raise his eyebrows, smiling as Stephen gets close once again. Tenderly their lips meet and Tony feels his whole world spin around to settle into something new and free. His eyes are closed, but that doesn’t stop lights from exploding in his mind at the outpouring of love coming from this wonderful person now held in his hands, their lips melding together, emotions and thoughts tangling into one knot. He tries not to think about how hard this will be, only to feel reassurance and confidence flowing from Stephen, bolstering his willpower. 

He slides his fingers into Stephen’s hair, deepening the kiss, stepping up against the lean, muscled form, wanting to feel him more fully all along his own body. Stephen groans into his mouth and slips his hands down to wrap around Tony’s waist, closing those last few inches between them. Going up on tiptoes, he leans against Stephen, releasing his claim on his mouth to kiss along his jaw and nip at his earlobe.

Laughing and hugging him tight, Stephen murmurs in Tony’s ear. “Now, now. Behave yourself. We’re running late.”

Stephen lifts one arm as Tony smirks at him, the hand still around his back forming the necessary symbol with the sling ring as his free hand scribes circles of energy in the air next to them. A portal appears, outlined in fiery energy and showing an early morning street somewhere other than New York. Without removing his arm, he pulls Tony along as he steps through the portal and out onto that street. 

The morning air is cool and sweet, smelling slightly of ocean salt. The street seems to be on the edge of a small town, with the way behind them going downhill to the main area, filled with houses and shops in the near-distance leading toward the train tracks gleaming in the far-distance. In the direction that they are facing, a quaint group of buildings, including a whitewashed observatory dome, cluster together a short ways from the top of the hill. Crouched at the top are three large domed buildings, housing telescopes, if Tony’s assumption is correct, which it usually is. 

He searches his memory as Stephen leads them up the street to the cluster of white buildings, trying to remember where he’s seen these telescopes before and if he’s ever actually been here. The noises coming from the early morning bustle of animals around them, with the background sounds of civilization behind them gives the illusion that they are alone here. Without any cars visible, or even a bus stop around, Tony is willing to believe that they might be. 

The problem is that he is distracted by Stephen’s arm around his waist and his hand on Stephen’s shoulder. It feels natural, as though it’s supposed to have been there all this time. A shiver zips along his spine, raising goosebumps across his shoulders. In response, the cloak wrapped around Stephen’s frame slips over to cover Tony’s back and arms, snuggling him even closer to Stephen. 

“So, Doc, what’s the agenda? Besides taking a walk on a quiet Japanese hillside?” Tony is all smiles as they stroll along, arm in arm, body heat combining beneath the cloak to chase away the chill of morning. 

Stephen is smiling as well, giving Tony a squeeze that brings them closer, bumping their hips together without breaking their stride. The cloak slips further up Tony’s back, gliding out to a rest along his arms, extending Stephen’s embrace. Tony looks up at Stephen, his right hand still on Stephen’s shoulder, covered by the cloak. 

“Are you controlling this thing with your thoughts? It seems rather, um, friendly.”

Blushing, Stephen ducks his head and nibbles on his bottom lip a second before answering. “It’s got free will, for the most part, but it’s a fickle artifact.” Tipping his head up, angling it a bit to one side, he smiles shyly, inordinately pleased. “It would seem it likes you.”

It’s Tony’s turn to blush. He raises his free hand and pets the cloak where it lay over Stephen’s heart. Without looking up, he murmurs quietly, “It seems I like it too.”

Tony swears the cloak responds with a show of emotion that reminds him of the rug from that Disney movie, wriggling and fluttering all along it’s edges, Then it reaches out a corner of its collar and caresses Tony’s cheek. 

Stephen is beaming as he returns to their topic of discussion. “I had this idea come to me a little while ago. I thought, y’know, I know a lot of really smart people all around the world.” 

He smirks and smiles out of the corner of his eye at Tony, bringing an unexpected blush to Tony’s face at the compliment. Keeping his gaze forward out of a small degree of nervousness, he gives Tony another squeeze and continues.

“Why don’t I make introductions between them all and then we can get together regularly to discuss things that might affect the whole planet, whether it be mystical, technical, or whatever. That way, we can put everyone’s intellects to use and focus on problems together that might benefit from different viewpoints.”

“What would we call ourselves?” Tony half-chuckles but is beginning to warm up to the idea. “Also, what do we tell the governments? They’re still hung up on the Accords, though I’m not as sanguine about them as I used to be.”

This earns him another squeeze from Stephen, who stops to turn and look at him, still hanging onto his waist. 

“These can be some of the first things on our agenda, once we gather everyone together. First off, it’s got be on neutral ground. There are some individuals that need to be involved that aren’t always considered nice people.”

“That’s no way to talk about the man you love.” Tony smiles as he makes the quip, wondering who Stephen is really talking about.

Laughing, Stephen ruffles Tony’s hair and kisses him on the forehead. “{You’re such a goofball.} Come on, she’s probably wondering why I, of all people, am late picking her up.” 

“Oh, it’s a she? Is this a date? I hate being a third wheel.” Tony shakes his head, baffled and even more curious who it might be that Stephen is bringing him to be introduced to. 

Still smiling and chuckling, Stephen tosses his hair back and starts walking again, bringing Tony along with his hand still at his waist. “No, but she has been wanting to meet you for some time now. Things just never worked out for that to happen before now.”

“Oh, well okay then. Where are we, exactly? I’ve narrowed it down to southern Japan, but I don’t think I’ve been here before.” Tony turns to the question as a way to ease the anxiety he can feel building up inside. He trusts Stephen and knows he wouldn’t intentionally put him in danger, but unknown variables still make him worry.

“This,” Stephen waves his right hand at the buildings that they have reached and are now walking past, “is the [Okayama Astronomical Museum](http://ww1.city.asakuchi.okayama.jp/museum/). We are headed further up the hill.”

“Then that would make those the [Okayama Astrophysical Observatory](https://www.tripadvisor.com/Attraction_Review-g1023461-d4994912-Reviews-Okayama_Astronomical_Museum-Asakuchi_Okayama_Prefecture_Chugoku.html). I’ve heard of this place, but it’s only ever been on my bucket list.” Tipping his head back to view the tallest of the domes, Tony makes a mental note to actually make a bucket list, one of these days. His hand grips the robe at Stephen’s shoulder, an unconscious action revealing his nerves, even as he smiles and chuckles at his joke.

Resisting the urge to pat Tony’s hand, not wanting to call attention to the anxiety in case it makes Tony decide to leave or walk away from this opportunity, Stephen chuckles along with him, bumping their hips together again. Tony’s grip loosens a bit, though he begins walking in step with him.

They reach the observatory, the doors sliding open automatically as they approach and closing behind them. Inside, the foyer shows through glass walls the large telescope straight ahead and hallways branching off either side, glass-walled rooms revealing conference rooms and displays down their lengths. 

“Ohayo gozaimasu! She’s waiting for you in the control room down the hall to your right, Dr Strange. Hello, Tony Stark! Welcome to Okayama Observatory!” The young man greeting them is up on the platform for the telescope, waving his hands at them and pointing down the hall he had directed them to. 

Tony smirks and waves back, one hand only. “He’s excitable.”

“Huge fan of yours, actually. I’m sure he has instructions to stay up there or he’d be down here, asking for a selfie and an autograph, not to mention talking your ear off. That can wait.” Stephen heads down the hall, loosening his grip on Tony’s waist.

Tony lets Stephen’s hand slide until he can grab it with his own. He isn't ready to let go, not even to meet this mystery woman. When his hand grips Stephen’s, he catches a glimpse of a pretty brunette, her hair up in a ponytail, pen tucked under the hairband, her nose wrinkled as she smiles. 

“{ _Is that Thor’s -_ }” he starts to ask.

Stephen cuts him off, glancing back at him as he does. “{ _Don’t mention anything about Thor._ }”

“{ _Oh, are they - ?_ }” Tony feels bad for bringing it up, and glad he only thought it.

“{ _She’s not - not over him. Please guard your tongue, Tony._ }” A raised eyebrow marks the request.

“{ _I’ll let you guard my tongue._ }” Thinking about their kiss on the couch, Tony sends that image Stephen’s way. 

Shaking his head and giving Tony a wry smirk, Stephen can’t deny how the quip lightens him. His stomach leaps, sending flutters up into his chest and heat to his cheeks. He ducks his head, only to raise it again as his name is called.

“Stephen! Oh, you made it! Yay! I was worried something had come up!” 

The pretty brunette that Tony had caught a glimpse of runs up as they enter a room filled with computer workstations and monitoring screens. Half a dozen people scattered throughout the room look up at her voice cutting through the silence. When they saw the two of them come through the door, their reactions were mixed, some going back to their tasks, some craning their necks for better views. She stops and looks at Stephen, then down where his hand is holding tight to Tony’s, then back up to meet Stephen’s gaze, her mouth forming an unasked question.

“Yes, I brought him with, this time.” Stephen nods, his expression one of long-suffering sainthood. Turning to Tony, he hold out a hand to the woman. “Tony Stark, I’d like you to meet one of the top ten most brilliant minds on Earth.”

“Oh stop, flatterer. I’m just one of the lucky ones. Hello, Mr. Stark.” She holds out her hand to him, grinning and brushing her hair from her eyes. “It’s nice to finally meet you. I’m Dr Jane Foster.”


	4. Mr Roboto

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [Mr. Roboto](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=v-z2TNL-qvs)  
>  Artist: Styx  
> Album: Kilroy Was Here  
> Released: 1983
> 
> Opening [Lyrics](https://www.azlyrics.com/lyrics/styx/mrroboto.html):  
> どうもありがとうミスターロボット (Dōmo arigatō misutā robotto)  
> また会う日まで (Mata au hi made)  
> どうもありがとうミスターロボット (Dōmo arigatō misutā robotto)  
> 秘密を知りたい (Himitsu o shiritai) 
> 
> The lyrics translate into English as follows:
> 
> Thank you very much, Mr. Roboto  
> Until the day we meet again  
> Thank you very much, Mr. Roboto  
> I want to know your secret
> 
> The Cover-up by The Protomen - [Mr Roboto](https://www.youtube.com/watch?reload=9&v=htH2naY3-DM)

Previously - _“Yes, I brought him with, this time.” Stephen nods, his expression one of long-suffering sainthood. Turning to Tony, he hold out a hand to the woman. “Tony Stark, I’d like you to meet one of the top ten most brilliant minds on Earth.”_

_“Oh stop, flatterer. I’m just one of the lucky ones. Hello, Mr. Stark.” She holds out her hand to him, grinning and brushing her hair from her eyes. “It’s nice to finally meet you. I’m Dr Jane Foster.”_

===============================

Tony would like to say he paid attention to what Stephen and Jane talked about until after the obligatory tour of the observatory. He didn’t really, except just enough so when they turned to him for a comment, he was able to fake it. Standard operating procedures and best practices, developed over many years of zoning out during business meetings, but he is having a hard time focusing on the subject matter. Jane insisted they both take a turn at the telescope, viewing what she'd been researching lately. Tony couldn't look for long without thinking back to the trip out to Titan and how he and Stephen had argued the whole way. The irony of Stephen's words about protecting the Time Stone was enough to sour the view, prompting him to end his turn early. 

Stephen spent the extra time talking with Jane about her current project. They were engrossed in their discussion to the point where they don't notice when Tony wanders off, looking for the vending machines. He figures he's safe enough here, with everyone busy and focused on their work, that no one except maybe the fan boy would bother him while he's off by himself. 

Flashbacks from the MIT launch of the September Foundation haunt him a little as he meanders down an empty hallway leading to the restroom, he hopes. Pulling out his phone, he enters a reminder to check on those students that have used it to see what kind of interesting creations they've come up with. Nothing more exciting than a flickering bulb happens before he finds the men's room, same for the next two hallways until the vending machines show up. That's when he discovers that none of his cards work any more. 

The shock lasts a long time, nearly 45 seconds, before he accepts the truth of the situation. Pepper has cut his funds off. He’s not sure if it’s because he won’t talk to her or because he left without telling her where he was going, or that he was going at all. It doesn’t matter, in the long run. All that matters is that, faced with this unexpected setback, the old feelings return, the way he was in his youth, as rebellious and defiant as he ever was with his old man. Maybe even more so, considering what he’s been through in recent times. 

Smirking, his head tilted slightly to one side, hands shoved into his pockets, he walks casually down the hall, back to the large room full of busy people and many workstations. Easily finding one in the back corner, away from the main groups of workers, not that there are more than a dozen or so here right now, he sits down and gets to work. His fingers quickly limber up and soon he’s skating and skimming along down byways and connections that he’s sure everyone in the know thinks are secure. Even though his motives aren’t the best, this exercise reminds him how good it has always felt to put his talents to use.

Nearly an hour later, Stephen and Jane find him in the cafeteria, a bowl of green tea ice cream in one hand, energy drink in the other, deep in discussion with several of the scientists about several subjects at once. Jane laughs, tickled by this display of multi-tasking and happy that they’ve found him somewhere besides hiding in a corner. Stephen isn’t as amused, knowing that this manic energy is hiding something serious, though it is exciting to see Tony using his high-powered intellect for something besides Iron Man suits and wedding plans. It’s possible, seeing him here, to appreciate the genius that most people forget exists, as well as the man behind the Iron Man mask. 

Tony catches sight of them watching him, sees Stephen’s face and can tell that he isn’t fooling the doctor at all. As they start to make their way through the crowd, Jane gets a phone call, making Tony smile in anticipation of her reaction, if it’s the phone call he thinks it is. Stephen glances back at her as she dashes off to a quieter place, then looks back at Tony, eyebrow cocked up in question mode. Blushing and unable to keep his gaze steady, Tony glances down, tapping his phone on his knee. One of the astronomers asks a question, but Tony has had enough of this game.

“Sorry, Dr Tanaka, is it? Takeshi, that’s it. Dr Takeshi, please send me an email and I will be happy to continue this conversation at a later date. But, as you can see, my escort is here and that means it’s time for lunch. Okay, bye everybody!” 

As he waves, the scientists and others that had gathered around laugh and wave and start trickling back to their desks and workstations. Jane runs up to them, out of breath, eyes sparkling with excitement, her phone clutched in her hand.

“Oh my god! Guess what? You won’t believe it!” She’s looking at Stephen, but catches him glancing over at Tony and when her gaze follows, she is stunned and surprised to see he is grinning at her, looking like the cat that caught the canary and is still hungry, waiting for her to put the numbers together.

“You did this! Oh! Thank you!” She flings her arms around his neck, hugging him and laughing. Tony pats her back, blushing again and suddenly awkward with Stephen watching him and smiling, shaking his head at him. 

“Well, tell Stephen your news,” Tony tells her, gently untangling himself from her arms. 

“He funded my research for, like, ever!” Jane bounces a moment, then hugs Stephen and dances around with him trapped in her arms, his own held to his side by her embrace. 

The look of long-suffering patience on Stephen’s face brings another grin to Tony’s face. He laughs and claps his hands until Jane stops and apologizes for getting so excited. Funny thing in Tony’s mind is that the cloak hadn’t protested at all to Jane’s handling of Stephen, proving she was one that it trusted. This helps him relax even more, despite the shredding of his nerves over the past little while. When he is free, Tony reaches out and grabs him by the hand, giving it a squeeze.

“Hey,” he asks quietly, looking at Jane, but speaking to both of them, “is there somewhere we can go for some food and talk? I need to get out of here and Stephen promised Dim Sum. Being here in Okayama, I could really go for sushi and sake. How ‘bout it?”

Again Stephen looks at him, eyes narrowed. Tony winks at him, though no smile accompanies the gesture. Tilting his head, Stephen’s mouth quirks to one side as he sends a question to him.

“ _{Are you alright?}_ ” He sends comfort and love as well through the grip Tony has on his hand

“ _{No, but I don’t want to talk about it here. Can we please just go get something to eat?}”_

The mental tiredness in Tony’s thoughts alarms Stephen and he wonders if he’s pushed too much onto Tony too soon. His worry is met with thoughts of love and reassurance, but Stephen looks at Jane, eyebrows raised.

“Sure.” She shrugs and starts out the door, clearing a path through the remaining crowd of people.

They ended up in one of the local ramen shops, two plates of sushi from the nearby sushi bar on the table along with their bowls of freshly made soup. Three jars of sake and three cups also add to the crowded table, with Tony pouring rounds of the drink for everyone even as they were still getting their food arranged. Stephen refrains from more than one drink, knowing how it affects him when he uses magic and not wanting to be caught out unprotected, especially with Tony getting drunk and in the mood that he’s in. 

Jane is still excited enough to bounce, even seated, and willing to toast several times with Tony. She seems to think she can match him in drinks, but Stephen knows better. He hadn’t been to the same parties that Tony had gone to in his youth, but he’d heard stories about them, as well as the early days of Iron Man. Tony hadn’t had more than one or two drinks in the last seven years, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t still capable of drinking just about anyone except Thor under the table. Or maybe a super soldier, but that wasn’t anything to worry about anymore. 

Soon enough, Jane has stopped drinking and is working on finishing her ramen, waiting for Tony to spill the news. Stephen knows there’s more than just him deciding to fix Jane’s research up with some obscene amount of money that he’s holding out on. Watching him, Stephen notices how he’ll empty a cup, then fill it and slide over to one of their plates, grabbing the full one from in front of whoever he had just given another and drinking that one instead. It takes him a minute or two to figure out why. Jane asks eventually. 

“Why don’t you just drink your own, Tony?” 

“Hmmm?” It takes him a minute of fishing out another noodle to hold up over his mouth and swallow it whole before he answers her. 

“It’s bad luck to pour for yourself, my darling pangolin. So I pour for you and drink yours instead. Or Stephen’s. Doesn’t matter, long as it ain’t mine.” He gives her a sweet, sloppy smile and fills the empty cup in front of him, sliding it over to Stephen’s bowl before grabbing Jane’s cup and downing it in one shot. 

Glaring at the man about to bring another bottle to the table, knowing he’d bring them out until they left or passed out, Stephen finishes his broth with a loud slurp and stands. 

“Well I’m going to go find the restroom. Jane, make sure this is the last bottle, please? We need to be leaving soon and I’m sure you’ll need to get back as well.” 

When she starts to deny that she does, he gives her a stern look and glances at Tony, who is slurping another noodle and looking entirely too innocent to be for real. The sweet, happy grin Tony gives her is filled with contentment, almost enough to make her change her mind about asking him what she’s been wanting to ever since she’d seen him hanging onto Stephen’s hand like it was a lifeline. Since she’d promised Stephen to go easy on him, she smiles and sighs and waits for Tony to look at her in return. 

“Yes, my lovely pangolin, what is it you wish to ask of me?” His words are only slightly slurred, but there are more of them now, a sign he is trying to not sound as drunk as he is. 

“Tell me, Tony,” she leans forward to rest her chin on her crossed forearms and look up at him, wide-eyed and sweetly smiling, “what exactly are your intentions when it comes to Stephen’s heart and emotions? Not to mention him as a whole?” 

Grinning like he knows a secret and blushing, Tony doesn’t answer for a minute, taking the time to stack up the empty dishes neatly to one side of the table. After he’s done, he folds his arms like hers and leans down to the same level, his nose crinkled as he grins even more at her. 

“Well, darling Jane, whom I’ve just met and have only known for a couple of hours, the same could be asked of you about Thor. After all, he hasn’t left Earth yet.” 

The pleasant smile on her face shatters and falls away, leaving her open-mouthed in shock and hurt. She gasps and sits upright, stunned and indignant. 

“You can’t - how dare you?” Her words are more from shock than belief, spilling out of her as though from a wound. 

Tony’s chuckle isn’t one of amusement. “I’ve known Thor probably longer than you’ve known Stephen. Quit stealing my lines and say what you really want to say.” 

“Fine!” She flips her ponytail back over her shoulder to hang down her back, chin up and eyes fierce now. “Are you planning on breaking it off with Ms Potts, or is this thing with Stephen just a fling to you? I may not have known him very long, but he’s my friend and if you’re only in it for a few feel-good moments, you can take your money and go straight to Hell.” 

Tony carefully leans back in his chair, feeling the effects of the sake more now that he’s full and sleepy. Cautiously, he crosses his leg over his knee and rests his hand on his propped knee, giving Jane a sideways grin. After a moment to make sure he’s stable, he laughs and shakes his head. 

“I like you. You’ve got fire in you. Had the Reality Stone in you at one time, didn’t you? Ever wonder how you survived that?” He manages to smirk and laugh at the same time, a quiet scoff that conveys wonder and cynical amusement all at the same time. Moving faster than she expects, he leans forward, capturing Jane’s hands in his, holding them against the table top. 

“Stephen means more to me than anything or anyone. He is the reason I succeeded against Thanos. He is the reason I am here today to even talk to you. If it weren’t for him, for his belief in me, half of everyone in this whole damn universe would still be dust. At that, if I had to do it all again, I would trade all those lives for just his, if that was the only choice I had. As for what that means in the near future, I have no idea, and at this moment, I don’t even give one flying fuck.” 

His quiet, intense voice is a mere whisper, meant for her ears only. When he finishes, Jane is staring at him, tears in her eyes and mouth gaping open. She had guessed this was something unusual, and hearing this has confirmed it. His head drops down, hanging low over their hands and she is able to pull hers free. Doing so, she lays them on top of Tony’s, giving them a light squeeze to get his attention and help convey her own emotions. 

“Thank you, Tony. I’m sorry to be so harsh with you, but I was concerned. I’m not any longer.” A soft bark of harsh humor escapes her mouth as she shakes her head, fighting back the tears. “At least you are able to admit it. Me, I’m about to choke on my pride.” 

Unexpectedly, Tony pulls free of her grasp and wraps his arms around her, pulling her close to place a kiss on her temple. Still holding her, he whispers in her ear, “Stop it. Go to him. Don't risk losing out on something that could be the realest thing you’ve ever known. Don’t be dumb.” 

Leaning back, he waits until she looks at him again, which takes a moment as she pulls herself back together. He smiles, softly now, real affection in it instead of cynicism. “Pride is a cold companion at night.” 

Nodding, she grabs the full cup of sake in front of her. As she lifts it up, Tony raises his cup and they toast, silently, knowing what they are toasting. Tossing it back, they set the cups on the table hard enough to make noise, upside down and empty. 

Having stayed back by the short hallway leading to the restroom in back, Stephen catches the whole conversation and everything, aided by a quick [clairaudience](http://www.quantumpossibilities.biz/clairs.htm) spell. He is stunned and amazed yet again at the good fortune that has brought Tony to him at this time. Shook by Tony’s words to Jane, both about him and Thor, it takes Stephen longer than he expects to recover enough to walk back to the table. Even then, the only thing he can do when he gets there is throw his arms around Tony from behind, hugging him tightly and nuzzling his ear, fighting back tears. 

Tony feels Stephen behind him an instance before Stephen’s arms are around him, squeezing him tight. Stephen’s lips on his ear gives him enough contact to feel the overflow of love and other emotions bursting within his new love. Reaching up, he wraps his arm around Stephen’s head, turning to kiss his cheek. They shuffle and wiggle around for a minute, Stephen dragging his chair over next to Tony’s without either of them breaking their hold, until they are arranged next to each other, still wrapped up in a snug embrace. 

_“{I love you so much. }” “{Are you okay? You’re crying.}” “{I’m not crying, you are.}” “{Such a goof.}” “{Not me, Doc, it’s you.}” “{It’s your fault.}” “{I’ll take that.}”_

Their thoughts get tangled up until there’s only emotion flowing back and forth between them, wrapped up and lost in their own intimate world, until they are satisfied they’ve shown each other everything in their hearts, at least for now. Easing back from each other, small kisses on cheeks and a nose rub by Tony that brings a new flush to Stephen’s cheeks, they sit up and straighten their clothes, slightly embarrassed by this display but too pleased to really care who had seen them or how long it had taken. 

Jane’s expression, caught by Stephen in the moments when he and Tony are easing apart, is slightly envious, mostly enraptured as she is watching them. Best of all, she seems satisfied with the response by Tony. The only thing Stephen wants to know now is what happened that set him off this way. 

Picking up his cold tea, Stephen takes a sip, then bumps Tony’s knee with his own, ever so casually, bringing his attention to bear. “So, tell us what else you did besides dump a ton of money in Jane’s hypothetical lap.” 

Both Tony and Jane chuckle at the double entendre, though Tony manages to look chagrined as well as amused. When he doesn’t answer, Jane shakes her head, making her ponytail dance for a second, then pushes lightly on Tony’s shoulder. 

“Come on, spill it. It can’t be that bad, can it?" 

What can only be described as a chortle escapes Tony as he covers his mouth. It comes out again, louder and longer this time, even through his hand, until it blossoms into a full-blown guffaw, rocking him over and back as he laughs and stomps his feet. The laughing fit is just long enough to have Stephen and Jane staring at him, wondering if he’s lost control or gotten more drunk than they thought. Gasping for breath and wiping tears from his eyes, Tony barks out a couple of short, sharp laughs, then stops and looks at Jane, then Stephen, one eyebrow raised. 

“I robbed my own company, is what I did.” He smirks and lets his words sink in for a second, then continues. “I tried to buy something from one of the vending machines up there,” he waves a hand in the general direction of the observatory, “but none of my cards worked. I, uh, I got, um, I got mad. That’s my money and it was not there. It was, ah, it was cut off.” 

His eyes are serious now, focused elsewhere, not seeing the table or his companions, but looking inward, or into a dimension of virtual existence. “So I found a free terminal and accessed my systems. Ha! They thought they could lock me out. Pfft! I designed those systems, there’s no way anyone can lock me out. Not even,” something halfway between a laugh and a sob comes out with his words, “not even FRIDAY. I made her. I made them all.” 

The last few words came out in a whisper, filled with as much emotion as he’d shown earlier with Stephen. “But I showed them.” He continues, his voice returning more and more with each word. “I shuffled the accounts around, disconnected a couple of the cards from their originating accounts and hooked them up to dummy accounts that circle back around to Swiss accounts I’ve had tucked away from view for years now. Funneled money to offshore banks, then over to other accounts down in South America, moved assets and bought and sold companies until no one knows who they work for anymore. It’s all up in the air now.” 

He grins and looks up at Stephen, eyes full of tired pride in a job well done, though he hadn’t want to do it. “Why, Stephen? Why would they do that to me? Am I now the crazy one? Is that it? They can’t trust me any longer? She can’t trust -?” 

His voice breaks once again, unable to fully express what he fears has happened. Stephen takes him into his arms again, pulling him over to lay in his lap as he strokes the wild curls his hair has formed as Tony had ran his fingers through it while talking. 

Jane squirms in her seat, awkward in the presence of such intimacy, not sure how to react to Tony’s revelation and subsequent collapse. “Stephen?” 

He looks up and nods at her. “Yeah, go on back. We’ll return soon.” 

She stands and starts to drop some money on the table, but Stephen smiles and shakes his head. 

“I don’t think that’ll be necessary, unless you just feel like it.” 

Nodding, she takes a step then turns back. “Um, do you think you could, uh…” 

Smiling and nodding, Stephen feels joy erupt inside him. “Yes, I can send you to him. Just let me know when you’re ready to go.” 

Jane steps to his side and hugs him, grinning and wiping tears on her shoulder. “Thank you,” she whispers, following her words with a kiss to his cheek. “Take care.” 

As she heads out the door, Stephen wraps his arms around Tony’s shoulders, helping him up as he stands. It takes a moment to get them both on their feet, and Stephen can tell Tony is starting to wind down and feel the effects of the alcohol now. Lifting one arm over his shoulder, he gets Tony up and stable, then uses his free hand to open the door as they walk out into the afternoon sun. 

“Domo arigato,” Stephen speaks over his shoulder to the shopkeeper, not too concerned with the mess they’d left, considering the wad of money Tony had handed him when they’d first arrived. 

“Mister Roboto,” Tony murmurs, then chuckles. 

“What?” Stephen, busy getting them down the street to a quiet spot so they can portal back to the Sanctum, barely hears him and isn’t sure of the reference. 

_どうもありがとうミスターロボット (Dōmo arigatō misutā robotto)_  
_また会う日まで (Mata au hi made)_  
_どうもありがとうミスターロボット (Dōmo arigatō misutā robotto)?_  
_秘密を知りたい (Himitsu o shiritai)_ Tony mumbles the words, trying to find the tune. 

It takes Stephen a few more seconds to realize Tony is trying to sing a song, then he just looks at him. 

“Are you still drunk?” Stephen asks as he kisses Tony on the temple, holding him up around the waist. 

“Noooo, well, yes, but it’s a song.” Tony grins and repeats the words, following with one of the verses. 

_“I'm not a robot without emotions, I'm not what you see_  
I've come to help you with your problems, so we can be free  
_I'm not a hero, I'm not a savior, forget what you know_  
_I'm just a man whose circumstances went beyond his control_  
_Beyond my control, we all need control_  
_I need control, we all need control”_

Stephen shakes his head. “I’m not sure -” 

“Seriously? It’s like one of the best songs from the eighties. I’m surprised at you. I thought you knew every song from the eighties back to the sixties.” Tony is smiling again, arm still over Stephen’s shoulder, watching for his reaction. 

“Only the good ones,” Stephen quips, knowing this would get a rise out of Tony. 

“Oh what! As if! Styx, from their Kilroy Was Here album. It’s the one that split up the band! Oh come on, Stephen, you can’t tell me you’ve never heard it before.” Tony is standing on his own now, hands outstretched in indignation as he stares at Stephen in disbelief. 

It’s Stephen’s turn to look chagrined. Cheeks red, he smiles and shakes his head at Tony. “No, but let’s get back home and you can play it for me on your phone.” 

“Really?” Tony goes misty-eyed, then throws his arms around Stephen, kissing his cheek. 

The contact brings a brief impression of joy, though Stephen isn’t sure why exactly. Turning, he loops his arm around Tony’s waist again and they walk in quiet enjoyment down the somewhat busy street. Coming to a side street with even less traffic, Stephen directs them that way. They go a bit farther until there isn’t anyone around them. In a similar maneuver to how he did it that morning at the Sanctum, Stephen opens the portal with his free hand scribing the circle as his arm around Tony held the sling ring on that hand. 

As Tony steps in even closer before they step through the fiery ring, he tips his chin up and murmurs in Stephen’s ear. “Take me home, magic man.” 

Stephen feels that joy again and understands now. Happy beyond his wildest imaginings, he and Tony step through the portal together, back to their home. 


	5. The Grand Illusion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Grand Illusion is the seventh studio album by Styx, recorded at Paragon Recording Studios in Chicago.  
> Release date: July 7, 1977  
> It became the band's first Triple Platinum album, and spawned the Top 10 hit "Come Sail Away" and the Top 30 hit "Fooling Yourself".  
> [The Grand Illusion](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7U2E-In0DDg) \- live performance  
> .  
>  _But don't be fooled by the radio_  
>  _The TV or the magazines_  
>  _They show you photographs of how your life should be_  
>  _But they're just someone else's fantasy_  
> .  
>  _So if you think your life is complete confusion_  
>  _Because you never win the game_  
>  _Just remember that it's a grand illusion_  
>  _And deep inside we're all the same_  
>  _We're all the same_  
>  ….  
>  _Someday soon we'll stop to ponder_  
>  _What on Earth's this spell we're under_  
>  _We made the grade and still we wonder_  
>  _who the hell we are_

_Previously: As Tony steps in even closer before they step through the fiery ring, he tips his chin up and murmurs in Stephen’s ear. “Take me home, magic man.”_

_Stephen feels that joy again and understands now. Happy beyond his wildest imaginings, he and Tony step through the portal together, back to their home._

==================================

Stepping through the portal back into the Sanctum, Tony chuckles and looks around the large front room.

“Maybe we should have left some lights on.”

Stephen chuckles as well, taking a step back from Tony. “No problem. I don’t like to leave them on. Open flames can be dangerous, especially when they’re magical.”

Raising his hands, he scribes a complex pattern of energy and sparks fly from his hands to go throughout the house, lighting lamps in nearly every room. Looking up from concentrating, Stephen finds Tony smiling at him, curiosity mixing with the pleasure on his face. 

“Now that’s a handy trick. You should show me how to do that, one of these days.” 

Keeping his face neutral, Stephen lifts an eyebrow at Tony’s statement. He’s actually been considering that very thing, but hadn't been sure how to broach the subject. Instead of addressing it right now, he simply nods. “Indeed. You’ve definitely shown an aptitude for it and I’m sure you could pick up the languages and spell-forms, as long as you give it some study.”

“I think you’d find,” Tony gets close to him again, reaching up to encircle Stephen’s neck, twining his hands up behind the taller man’s neck as he murmurs with a smirk, “that I am a very quick study, when I have the right motivation.”

Stephen grabs Tony by his hips and pulls him close, leaning down to whisper in his ear, “I have to warn you, I can be a harsh taskmaster. Just ask any resident that worked under me.”

Tony groans softly and grinds his hips against Stephen’s. “I’d love to work under you, Doctor.”

With a groan in response to Tony’s movements, Stephen tilts his head just enough to capture his lips, deepening the kiss as Tony’s hands move to cup his cheeks. 

Their intimacy is interrupted by the sound of fists pounding on wood, followed by the rattle of wood, glass, and metal as someone shakes that same door on its hinges. Tony is instantly on alert, jerking back from Stephen’s embrace, tension stiffening his entire body. Stephen has been expecting this however, though this is very late. He's been monitoring the door for several hours now and has seen four people approach and depart, starting just after they'd left for Japan. This though, irritates him. 

“It is way too late at night for this,” he grumbles.

“Who would be bothering you this late? Is it an emergency?” Tony starts looking around and takes a step towards the door, only to be stopped by Stephen.

“It’s not me they want to talk to.” 

“Oh.” Tony’s face falls, the happiness he’d been expressing wiped away by the thought of having to face anyone right now. 

“I’ll send them away.” Stephen’s face goes stern as he straightens the Cloak around his shoulders. 

Tony sighs, his shoulders slumping with dejection. “Maybe I should -”

“No, I got this.” Stephen pats his shoulder, giving him a wry smile. “Don't worry about it.”

He takes a step, only to be stopped by Tony's arm across his waist, keeping him from leaving. Sliding his arms around the shorter man, he hugs him gently. Tony drops his head to rest it on Stephen's collarbone, breathing deeply as he buries his nose in the blue cloth at Stephen's chest.

“Tell me,” he murmurs, his voice muffled by the cloth.

“Anything.” Stephen answers, rocking them back and forth ever so slightly. 

“Am I doing the right thing?” Tony's whisper is barely audible, his hands rising up to grip Stephen's robe.

Stephen reaches up with one hand to stroke Tony's hair, laying his cheek on the top of Tony's head. “I believe you are, yes.”

Tony chuckles and turns his head to get more comfortable. “You didn't look?”

Kissing the top of Tony’s head, Stephen smiles and hugs him again. “This is nowhere near a hopeless situation, my dear.”

“What was that?” Tony’s head pops up, bumping Stephen’s nose.

“Ow! What was what?” Stephen lets go and rubs his nose. Seeing Tony grinning foolishly, he tries to grin back, though he feels he missed something.

“What you said.” He grins then shakes his head when Stephen opens his mouth and grabs Stephen by the hand. “{Not the bit about hopeless, after that.}”

An adoring smile on his face now to go with the hint of red on the tops of his cheeks, Stephen gazes into Tony’s sparkling brown eyes. “{You mean ‘my dear’?}”

Lighting up with the biggest smile Stephen has ever seen on his face, Tony brings Stephen’s hand to his lips and kisses the back of it. “{Yes, that’s it.}”

The rattling and knocking comes again, souring the mood a little. Leaving a peck on Tony’s knuckle, Stephen lets go and turns towards the door, then looks back. “How about you wait in the study? Oh and make a list of things you want from your workshop and we’ll take a trip there after I get done with our late-night visitor.”

He tips his head at the door, then heads in that direction. Behind him, he can hear Tony’s footsteps as he goes down the hallway to the study to wait. Stephen hopes this confrontation isn’t going to end badly, but he’s not really sure what will happen. Wondering now if he should have taken a look ahead, he stops at the doors leading out to the street. Through the glass he can see a larger shape than he had expected and for a moment feels a sense of relief. If it’s not Virginia Potts, then he is sure the encounter shouldn't be too bad. Facing her is the one scenario he is truly nervous about, if only because Tony does have deep feelings for her. 

The Cloak of Levitation, still until now, swirls around him, hugging him and patting his cheeks. Comforted by it's actions and quieting his thoughts, he opens the doors and sees Happy Hogan about to knock on the frame again. Taken aback at his sudden appearance, the man jumps and looks like he’s about to swing, then nods as he takes in Stephen’s appearance with the robe and the cloak.

“Uh, good evening. I’m looking for Tony Stark. Is he here?”

“Yes, he is. Would you like me to give him a message?” 

Stephen looks at Hogan, a crinkle in his brow as he tries to figure out what exactly is going on here. He gets an answer quicker than expected. Hogan turns away and gives a hand signal to the car parked in front of his doorstep. The sleek, modern Audi R8, done up in burnt orange and black trim shuts off and the door swings up, revealing none other than Virginia “Pepper” Potts, looking haggard and sleepless as she pulls herself up and out onto the sidewalk. 

Taking a deep breath and reminding himself that he faced Dormammu and survived, Stephen wonders why this is so much scarier. His ego tells him it’s because he isn’t using magic, but his conscience is sure it’s because he knows that in her own way, she loves Tony too. Tony would be understandably upset if she is hurt, physically anyway. Her recent actions aside, she’s the one that had helped him retain his company, cared for him and given him someone to rely on. But the main issue is that Tony can’t see that what she’s been asking of him is not supportive or accepting of who he really is. 

Mentally bracing himself, he pulls out the façade he’d developed back when he was still practicing medicine and smiles at her, holding out his hand.

“Hello, Ms. Potts. It’s a pleasure to be able to properly introduce myself finally.”

“Look, Mr. Strange,” she interrupts him, waving her hand in dismissal of his offered handshake, “I haven’t had much sleep, so I’m sorry if I am rude. Please go get Tony so I can talk to him.”

Stephen gives her a wry smile, clasping his hands in front of his belt. “It’s Doctor Strange, Ms. Potts. And no.”

“No?” Her brow crinkles as she repeats the word.

“Exactly. I do not have to do as you ask simply because you use a polite word. You are being rude and if Tony wanted to talk to you, he would have done so already. Which he hasn’t. In over a week now, from what he says. If there is a message you’d like for me -”

“Are you holding him hostage?” She interrupts him again, crossing her arms and glaring at him now. 

“No. I have no need to do that. He is free to come and go as he pleases. But I am going to say, you’re not making this easy for him. He was very upset over you cutting him off like that.” Stephen gives her the same smile he used to reserve for recalcitrant board members that tried to tell him a procedure wouldn’t work when he knew it would. It’s smarmy and condescending and designed to nettle the recipient into taking action, simply by its implied superiority.

“That was for his safety and security. We had no idea where he was! And then, those charges? Coming from Japan? There’s no way -”

Stepping down from where he stands on the doorstep and opening a portal to his left, Stephen steps through, even as one from the right opens up and allows him to walk out. Turning to face Ms. Potts again, he clasps his hands behind his back this time. “You were saying…”

She glares now, focusing her anger and frustration on him as the visible target. “I did it to protect him. He hasn’t been his usual self ever since -” she waves a hand, trying to find the right way to describe what had happened to everyone, “since that happened. He needs to come home, settle down and put his business, his legacy, to rights. This mess he’s made of things needs to be fixed!”

Stephen looks over at Hogan as she rants, watching his face as he flinches from the anger and frustration she is expressing. It’s clear to him that Ms. Potts hadn’t been one of those that had been ‘dusted’ when Thanos had snapped his fingers. Stephen is pretty sure Hogan had been.

“You were in the Soul Stone with the rest of us, weren’t you, Mr. Hogan?” Looking him in the eye, Stephen drops his haughty demeanor and allows Hogan to see the reflected emotion of one that shares that experience. Nodding when Hogan slowly nods, Stephen turns back to Ms. Potts.

“You weren’t there, waiting for a rescue that might not have ever come. You have no idea what we went through. How it seemed to just be nothing but pale, orange fog swirling around and people walking around in shock.” He can see Hogan nodding harder now, agreeing with the description. “I was there, on Titan, watching Tony take on this mad being. Others were there in the Soul World that had watched him as well. Do you know what those of us that were there were waiting for? What kept us going, in the face of what seemed so hopeless? No, of course not. Hogan, tell Ms. Potts here what the main thing was that kept everyone sane while we waited.”

Holding out his hand to Hogan and watching him, Stephen sees a stiffening of the man’s spine as he straightens up to look over at the woman who is more than just his boss. 

“Tony.” Hogan says the name of his friend reverently. “If word hadn’t been passed along that he was working on a plan, I don’t know what would have happened. When we heard that message, it gave us hope. After that, we all knew that our survival, our rescue would come at the hand of Iron Man. Of Tony. He is the reason we were able to make it out with our sanity. Make it back without being nearly as messed up as those that did lose all hope.” Hogan shakes his head and wags his hands back and forth in full denial. “No disrespect, but I don’t see how you can just dismiss what he did, Pepper.” 

“Happy? You’re taking his side? You know Tony hasn’t been himself, even before this. He needs to come home, Happy, where we can take care of him. You can see that, can’t you?” Pepper pleads with him, looking shocked and betrayed at Happy’s words. Turning back to Stephen, she frowns as she recovers her bearing, then takes a step forward to jab at him with her finger, scowling in anger.

“This is your doing! What did you do to him? Did you use your magic on him?”

“No, I used logic. It isn’t nice to disrespect the man that saved your entire race. You should cut him,” he holds up his hand, warding her off, and nods at Hogan, “and Tony some slack. Things like this take time to recover from. And in Tony’s case, it’s been building for years.”

“How do you know? Just because you happen -”

“To be a doctor? Yes, exactly. I not only have an M.D., but also a PH.D. I am, or used to be, one of the best there’s ever been, if I do say so myself. Part of being the world’s finest neurosurgeon is knowing more about the human nervous system than most other people. That happens,” he grips his hands together to keep them from shaking as he talks, and emphasizes the word as a snapback at her phrasing, “to include the brain, physically and mentally. Which means that there are things going on with Tony that will need time, understanding, and support for him to recover from before he can return to a semblance of normality.”

He frowns at her and before she can speak, holds up a hand again and nods in a show of understanding. “I know, it seems like he overreacted with changing his businesses all around. That may have been uncalled for and I know you thought you were doing the right thing. After all, you just want to look out for the man you love, right? He’s put himself in danger so many times, and for what? The world doesn’t appreciate him, does it? The governments of the world only want to take his inventions, his armor, his legacy, and make more weapons out of them, don’t they?”

Stephen clasps his hands behind his back again and leans a little closer to Pepper. “I mean, what kind of a woman would you be, what kind of a future wife, if you didn’t do what you thought was best for him? You just want him to stop messing around with all these crazy, overpowered, out of control, superheroes that never seem to take into consideration that Tony is only human, even though everyone thinks that Starks are men of iron. Right? That if only he would put away these suits of his, stop getting involved in things that should have, that still could, kill him, then you and he could finally have a nice dinner, get married, settle down and raise a family together. After all, he is no longer young. He needs to put away his toys and step up to take care of business, like a normal man, isn't that right, Ms. Potts?”

“Yes! Damnit, yes! He never stops to think about what this does to me! Why can’t he just stop this nonsense? He needs to - to - stop - stop acting so childish!” Pepper flings her hands in the air, stomping her foot in an emotional show of frustration.

Stephen gives her a look of concern and sadness. “I’m sorry, Ms. Potts. I’d offer to deliver that message to Tony, but I don’t think it would go over very well for me to tell him that you are on the same page as his father.”

Pepper’s eyes go wide, her mouth making an O of shock and surprise as her jaw drops at the impact of Stephen’s words. Stepping back from him, her hand covers her mouth. Happy steps up to put his arms around her, helping her remain upright. She shrugs him off and goes to the car door, pulling the handle to open it. As Happy turns to help her, he glances Stephen’s way and gives a slight shake of his head.

“Tell Tony we still care about him, Doc.”

“I will.” Stephen nods in agreement, giving him a look filled with compassion. Not knowing what else he could say, he remains quiet as the two climb in and drive away. He is glad that Hogan made Pepper get in the passenger seat, as she didn’t seem like she would be very safe driving at the moment. When they are gone from sight up the street, he turns and walks back into the Sanctum, decidedly less elated than he had been a little while ago. 

Entering the study, Stephen finds Tony sitting on the couch, head down, arms braced on his knees. He hears a sniff coming from the man in front of him and does a quick scan of Tony’s aura, the feeling of despair too strong to dismiss. The aura coming from his beloved is dark again, almost as dark as when he’d shown up at the Sanctum. Not sure what has happened to make him this way again, Stephen clears his throat, then speaks when Tony doesn’t respond.

“Tony? What’s wrong?” he asks softly, reaching out a hand to rest on the top of Tony’s head. 

Tony raises his head and Stephen sees he is wearing his glasses. Behind the tinted lenses, tears fill his eyes, flung away as he quickly swipes at them before shaking his head. 

“It’s my fault. I made her that way. I turned her into that.” 

Tony’s murmured confession catches Stephen off-guard. How could he have known what Pepper had said? Then Stephen remembers Tony grabbing the front of his robe, just before letting go and returning to the study, where his glasses had been on the desk. He flexes his fingers and performs a simple spell of discovery. Sure enough, stuck in one of the folds of the robe is a small device. Pulling it free of the cloth, Stephen holds it out in front of Tony. When Tony reaches for it, Stephen destroys it with a bright spark of energy.

“No, Tony. She became like that on her own. Maybe she thought that’s what you wanted, but you aren’t responsible for her actions. Only your own.” Squatting down in front of him, Stephen looks up at Tony’s frowning face and states very calmly, “And if you ever, ever again, place a device on me without my permission, I swear on the Eye of Agamotto that I will personally drop you off on the doorstep of the Avengers’ HQ and never look back. Is that clear?”

His cheeks red from embarrassment, Tony looks away, his brown eyes dark with pain. “Yes,” he whispers, “I’m sorry. I had to hear what she said.” 

“I understand. I’m sorry for that. I would have spared you that. It’s why I wanted to face her alone.” Stephen rests his hand on Tony’s knee, then shifts to sit next to him on the couch. “Maybe I was too hard on her. It’s just, I don’t know - hard for me to let anyone say or do something that takes away your freedom. You deserve more respect, more love, more -”

He stops as Tony turns to look at him, eyes squinting through his glasses like he’s studying a curious piece of machinery. Feeling like he’s suddenly under a microscope, Stephen shuts his mouth and looks down at his hands resting on his own knees. 

“More what?” Tony asks quietly, placing his hand on Stephen’s shoulder. 

Stephen lets out a facetious huff of laughter. “Everything. Everyone in the world, in the whole damn galaxy, hell, the whole damn known universe, owes you so much. You shouldn’t have to do anything you don’t want to, ever again.”

“Truthfully?” Tony gives his shoulder a squeeze, then drops his hand down to rest around the doctor’s waist, placing his other hand over Stephen’s, “I don’t give a damn about the universe. That isn’t why I did what I did. It was for those I consider to be my family, my loved ones. Most of all, it was for you. Like I said before. No one ever believed in me like you did. No one trusted me with everything, with their very existence. Just you.”

“I see now that she doesn’t trust me like that. I love her, but I can’t marry her. Not now. She doesn’t see things the way I do.” Tony rests his forehead against Stephen’s shoulder. “I don’t want to hurt her anymore. But I don’t know how to tell her without hurting her. I don’t even know how to say what is in my heart to you, let along voice it to anyone else.”

Stephen could barely hear Tony’s whispered confession, but the touch of their hands allowed him to hear the thoughts to go with the words. He shifts and wraps his arm around Tony’s shoulders, bringing him in for a hug. Instead, Tony keeps turning to lay on his knees. Moving back to give him more room, Stephen sees that his eyes are closed and brushes Tony’s hair with his hand, bringing a tiny smile to his face. 

“I’m sorry I keep repeating myself.” Tony’s voice is soft, his lips barely moving. 

“It’s alright. Sometimes you have to keep saying the words that will come out in order to clear your mind enough to find the ones you really want to say.” 

Stroking Tony’s hair for a few minutes more with one hand, Stephen rests his other one on Tony’s chest, just below the nano reactor. Subtly, he moves his fingers to form a pattern, feeding a trickle of energy into it to replicate the curative spell he’d used earlier. This one was more on a microscopic level, intended for slow, long-term healing. He’d gotten the idea after seeing Wanda use her ability to repair things and had been working on it recently. 

“Mmm, that feels nice,” Tony mutters, placing his hand atop Stephen’s. 

“You can feel that?” Surprised, Stephen pulls his hand away, only to have Tony push against him, putting it back where it had been. 

“Yes, and please, don’t stop. It’s very soothing.” Once Stephen continues what he’d been doing, Tony starts speaking, eyes opening to fix on Stephen’s face. 

“So you think that if I just let my tongue wag and say whatever comes to mind, even if I tell you how much you mean to me, like, six million times, then eventually the rest of my thoughts will coalesce into something tangible and I’ll be able to express these feelings that are tearing me apart inside?” 

Stephen smiles gently, his gaze caught in the depths of Tony’s gaze, seeing the pain, and the love, pooling there. “Yes. You have to peel away all the illusions you’ve built up around yourself and let the real you come out without censorship or recrimination. It’s,” he pauses to swallow against the knot of emotions this still provokes in himself, speaking again when he’s fairly sure he won’t break down, “it’s hard, but a necessary part of healing. Removing the poison, the corrupted bits, makes everything heal instead of continuing to fester.”

_“Welcome to the Grand illusion_  
_Come on in and see what's happening_  
_Pay the price, get your tickets for the show_  
_The stage is set, the band starts playing_  
_Suddenly your heart is pounding_  
_Wishing secretly you were a star.”_

Tony stops singing and smiles crookedly up at Stephen. “Sorry. I am listening. Remove the gangrene, let the rest of me heal. Right. Got it.”

Narrowing his eyes at Tony, Stephen wonders if the change in words is deliberate or a Freudian slip. He refrains from pointing it out, instead focusing on the song. “Styx again, hmmm. Seems your subconscious is telling you something there.”

“What? That I’m stuck in the past?” Tony lets out a quiet, deprecatory laugh. 

“No, it’s more like,” Stephen tips his head, deciding the best way to phrase it, “using songs from your childhood, from your teen years, gives you a chance to express yourself without exposing too much. You’re so sensitive, Tony…”

He pauses when he feels Tony stiffen at the phrase, recognizing the trigger for what it is. Taking his hand from Tony’s chest, Stephen caresses his cheek, smiling and willing his love to show in his own gaze. “It’s one of the things that amazes me. How you manage to learn and track every little details of those around you. You’ve taken what is normally a defensive adaptation and turned it into a talent to go along with the rest you posses.”

Blushing furiously, Tony twists and turns until he can bury his face in Stephen’s robe at his waist. He wraps his arms around the sorcerer’s hips, squeezing him in appreciation. The compliment fills him with a warmth he’s never fully acknowledged and has only felt a few times in his life. Shifting to his side, he wiggles his head around to be able to breathe better and feels dampness on his cheeks. Stephen’s hands on his head and ribs make it easy to remain where he is and let the tears come as they may, unhindered by any worry about someone seeing them. 

After some time, Tony takes a deep breath and realizes he must have fallen asleep because his limbs are stiff when he goes to move them. Carefully stretching, aware of the edge of the couch at his back, he rolls back onto Stephen’s knees and looks up. This man he loves, this beloved person, is watching him with such depths of love in his gaze that Tony feels as though he is floating weightless in those deep blue pools. It still amazes him how this all seems less bizarre and more familiar with every passing moment they spend together. 

Reaching up, he caresses Stephen’s cheek. He smiles and Tony triggers his camera function in his glasses, capturing that look for his personal collection. He hasn’t ever told anyone about the pictures he’s taken of them, but it’s an easy bet that he’s taken more of Stephen, especially today, than of all the others. Something about the angles of his cheekbones, the glint of high intelligence tempered by his experiences, topped by the silvered hair at his temples and the balance brought by that smile, the one that gives the impression of secrets and knowledge. 

Tony chuckles, his hand still resting on Stephen’s cheek. “{I guess it’s not a secret any longer, is it?}”

Plucking the glasses from Tony’s face, Stephen grins. “Not anymore, no. May I?”

“F.R.I.D.A.Y., give him the tour.” Looking extremely pleased with himself, Tony watches as Stephen slips the glasses on and begins moving his gaze around to see everything he’s being shown. The doctor has a look of awe on his face, mouth open in amazement and holds his hands out as though to touch what he’s seeing.

“This is amazing! It’s like I’m in a room within this room!” Stephen’s exclamation is softly made, but fills Tony’s heart with joy. He’d never really shared this with anyone and Stephen’s reaction is more than he’d ever hoped for. 

Stephen glances down at Tony, a huge grin across his lips. “Everytime I think I’ve gotten a grasp on your genius, you go and blown my mind again.” He shakes his head and glances around again, looking up and to the right for a moment, then down at Tony again. “How you even managed to work this out amazes me.”

“Well, I don’t always have the full interface on, unless I’m actively controlling the suit or connected to the system for some reason.” Tony’s face is red, but smiling, his eyes sparkling in the glow of the flickering lights around the room. 

Removing the glasses, Stephen beams down at Tony, handing them back to him as he does. “Once you learn Vedic and Sanskrit, magic should be no problem for you, with these visualization skills. I can’t wait to show you.”

Tony grins and sits up, hooking the glasses on the collar of his shirt. “Then what are we waiting for? Let’s do this!”  
\-----------------------------------------------------------------------

Several minutes after arriving at the Avengers Headquarters, Pepper finds herself still pacing around the apartment that she and Tony share, trying to figure out how to reach him without having to go through Dr Strange first. The only way she has come up with so far is to send his suit after him, but after the stunt he pulled earlier, it’s highly unlikely that his suit A.I. would be able to bring him back. She knows too, that giving him the suit outright won’t be enough to convince him to return home. 

She can appreciate him not wanting to talk to her. As much as it pains her to admit, she hasn’t been supportive of him lately, not with him wanting to start a new Avengers initiative, and not with him continuing to respond as an active Avenger. It wasn’t until Dr. Strange had brought it up that she had realized how much she did sound like Howard Stark. The sour taste that left in her mouth had almost made her sick. Still, she is convinced that if Tony doesn’t stop, doesn’t get off this path he is on, something or someone will destroy him and that would be the ultimate loss. 

Stopping at the desk near the main door of the living room that leads to the rest of the compound, she opens the main drawer and pulls out the old-fashion cell phone from inside. Its hard shell case reminds her of a beetle and when she flips it open, that reminds her of a beetle’s wing. She’s creeped out by the similarity, but steadies herself and pushes the button to dial the only number that’s been programmed into it. 

The phone rings a couple of times before it’s answered. The voice on the other side of the call isn’t who she expects. 

“Tony?” 

Pepper is taken aback as the woman asks for Tony, then realizes that’s who would have been the one to call if he hadn’t left. She clears her throat and the line goes silent. Hopefully, they didn’t hang up.

“Hello? This is Pepper. Tony’s gone for a walk and hasn’t come back yet. Can you help me?”

“Yes, Pepper, I can do that for you. I’ll gather a team. Do you know where he was last seen?”

“I do. I’ll send you the coordinates. And Natasha,” Pepper has to swallow the tears catching in her throat before she can finish, “thank you.”


End file.
